


Simple Doesn't Mean Bad

by afreerobin



Category: SpongeBob SquarePants (Cartoon), The SpongeBob Musical - Various/Anthony & Coulton/Jarrow
Genre: Human AU, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Slow Burn, absolutely not beta read, doesnt actually take place in the muscial world tho, i really be writing gotdman spongebob fanfic in 2020 huh, so no volcanos here, tags will probably change as time goes on, the musical was just so good folks, yes u read that relationship tag right this will end up a ot3
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:22:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 28,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22180015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afreerobin/pseuds/afreerobin
Summary: Everyday is the best when it comes to Bobby Porter. Or, at least he does his best to make it that way.(A series of works inspired by cordiallysent's "life, over the sea". Plot, with fun filler chapters in between.)
Relationships: Sandy Cheeks/SpongeBob SquarePants/Patrick Star
Comments: 5
Kudos: 52





	1. I'm Ready

**Author's Note:**

> Again, shout out to cordiallysent, who's fantatic fic this is based off of. With their permission via tumblr (hardlydrawn, check em out) I'm using the same human names they did. 
> 
> TW: Panic attack and sensory overload

Bobby Porter understood the difference between being a _child_ , and being _childish_. A child doesn't have to pay bills, or fret over if the decorations in their new apartment look good. A childish person can hum along to upbeat musical while they pour over bills, and can rearrange their furniture on any little whim. So yes, Bobby sees the difference. It's others who seem not to get it.

Looking down at his phone, the, _'sorry sir you just don't seem to be the right fit for us'_ , still ringing around in his ears,he wonders what it was this time. He's short, sure. But being five three doesn't automatically make him a kid. Nor do the brightly colored, often pattered vests he tended to wear. It's just, he's twenty for Neptune's sake. Some of his old classmates were married with kids of their own by now. What was it about Bobby that made people look at him and see some irresponsible child, despite the birth date on his resume clearly stating his age.

It makes Bobby not quite mad, not really sad, but some sort of bubbling upset he can't describe. It's unfair, he decides, slipping onto his couch with a defeated little slump. Perhaps it wouldn't be so hard if he had some other profession in mind. Like engineering, or brain surgery. Anything but a cook.

Even as a child, an _actual_ child mind you, Bobby had the same big dream. To cook, and make people happy. Not at any fancy five star restaurant either. He'd always had an overt fondness for home cooking, family owned dine-ins. Problem was, his parents didn't own a restaurant. Didn't cook much really. A setback, but nothing that put Bobby down. Family didn't always have to be blood after all. Patrick was his, well, brother wasn't really right. A terse uncomfortable frown crossed Bobby's face at that. Brother wasn't right, but Pat was important. Patrick was something that was family. 

That ideal was what made Bobby fall in love with The Krusty Krab. The food was great, of course, but Bobby wasn't a picky eater. It was the story behind the restaurant that Bobby just adored. A family business, Mr. Krabbe had declared the first time Bobby went. His elation had only risen when Bobby discovered that Mr. Krabbe's definition of family included not only his daughter, but two of his close friends. It was a dream come true for the young boy. The very picture of what Bobby thought was a perfect job. But it wasn't like he could actually work at The Krusty Krab. Not only was Bobby a stranger to the owner, but Mr. Krabbe's made it clear it was a three man (and one daughter) operation. An unreachable dream, so Bobby focused all his desire on just landing a job that involved food.

It was harder than he thought. The odd fast food job came and went, but it didn't have the heart Bobby wanted. Wasn't comparable to what he really was looking. And now, trying his hand at landing a job just a bit more out there, Bobby was having no luck. No restaurant wanted to hire just any kid off the street, no matter how much Bobby beefed his resume up.

His gloom had formed a sweaty cloud around Bobby when the jingle of keys came. Patrick strolled in whistling something close to the Mermaid Man theme song like he owned the place. Which, he nearly did. They shared the same apartment building, albeit a neighbor Bobby had yet to meet between them. Patrick had lived in Bikini Bottom for nearly two years now, and had a wealth of knowledge newbie Bobby often sought after. His best friend since grade school. Bobby sagged further into the couch, a bit of relief replacing his despair.

''Hey Pat.'' He said, watching his taller friend help himself to whatever meager things Bobby had in the fridge. He really needed to go shopping.

A pop of tupperware, and Patrick had made himself comfortable on Bobby's counter. With a practiced motion he munched on the snack and smiled.

''Heya buddy. How's the day going?''

Bobby groans, and that has Patrick rasing an eyebrow. He waves his phone in the air, pineapple casing and all. ''Got another call back.'' Bobby says, using that forced happy voice his friend hated. ''Got turned down again. They said I wasn't a good fit.''

Pat hums and stops his snacking, a sign he was really focusing hard. It was always hard to see Bobby look so put down. As far as Patrick could remember his buddy had always felt with his full strength. When Bobby was happy he beamed, all radiant and infectious. When Bobby was sad it was usually followed with great hiccuping sobs, twisted facial expressions that made him look like he was made of rubber. And angry Bobby, well Patrick couldn't recall anything other than a slightly annoyed Bobby in the fifteen years he had known him. To see Bobby now, clearly emotional but too worn out to express it was an uncomfortable turn of events.

Patrick set aside his ransacked snack and did a little hop off the counter. Bobby, all to used to it didn't bother moving as he was joined on the couch. He snaked an arm round his torn up friend, pulling him to his side. His buddy sighed, all muted and horse, but snuggled close all the same. It was a position they adopted often. To Patrick it was like Bobby was born to settle into his side.

''Well, what do they know? You're the best cook I've ever met.'' Pat squeezes his shoulder, and a warmth chases away a bit of Bobby's despair. ''If they turned you down that's on them.''

''Tell that to my bills. Or Gary. I need to go grocery shopping and the money Grandpa left me was just enough for a down payment on this apartment.'' Bobby sniffs. ''I can't go asking my parents for money Pat. Gotta prove I'm not just some kid with my head in the clouds.''

The thing is, Patrick gets it. He really does. The two of them had always been peas in a pod, much to somes chagrin. Bobby was his younger by nearly three years, and as kids it had been a topic many of their classmates loved to poke at. Patrick had been held back in school, and all but Bobby, all toothy grins even at five had been the only one to try and make friends. He seemed to be the only one who thought Patrick wasn't stupid for being held back. Bobby had embraced Patrick's differences, even understanding that he just took in information different than most kids did. To this day Patrick swore he wouldn't of graduated when he did without Bobby's help.

But because of all of this Patrick understood. People looked at him and thought _dumb_ , just like they looked at Bobby and thought _kid_. It wasn't fair to either of them, and sometimes Patrick wished Bobby didn't care so much about pleasing people. Bobby always put others first and while it was one of the things Pat loved about him, he hated seeing his friend so worn down.

''Come on Buddy,'' He tries, and Bobby looks at him with those wide blue eyes. Something thumps in Patrick's chest but he continues on. ''Have you tried everywhere yet?''

''The only restaurant in walking distance I haven't applied to is The Krusty Krab. And I can't just get a job there.''

''Uh, why not?''

That had Bobby give a rough sniff, and he pulls away just enough to look Patrick in the eyes. ''Cause Patrick, they already have a cook. And everyone knows the owner won't hire anyone else.''

And now Patrick is looking sheepish, like something has just dawned on him. He bits his bottom lip, pink like his hair, and untangles Bobby from his side. Bobby's sitting up on his own again, so he takes that as a good sign.

''I thought you knew already Bobby, I'm sorry.''

''Why are you apologizing Pat?'' Bobby tilts his head to the side and squints. It's cute, and Patrick takes a beat to remember it.

''The Krusty Krab,'' Pat begins. ''It had a _Help Wanted_ sign out today. I just assumed you saw it.''

There's a long beat of unnatural silence as Bobby processes just what might be his dream come true unfurl in front of him. It seemed too good to be true, like this was all a dream. New as Bobby was to Bikini Bottom, even he knew the rumors behind Mr. Krabbe. A man who didn't trust easy, who was fiercely protective over what was his. To think that one of his employee's, one of his _family_ had left, and now The Krusty Krab was opening its doors to new members was about as probable as volcanic eruption. 

''Are you...'' Bobby's voice comes soft, wistful. ''Are you sure?''

''Sure as I've ever been.''

And that, an assurance from his best friend in the world was enough for Bobby. It's a universal truth that Patrick would never lie to him. Only, now there's a deep gnawing fear climbing up Bobby, going straight for his heart. Panic attacks weren't exactly uncommon for him, but now it felt so much deeper. He heaved, and suddenly Patrick was there, arms around Bobby and the scent of artificial candies pressing into him.

And Bobby, Bobby _can't_ \- Can't breathe, can't think, because of Patrick can barely move. Everything, the reality of the situation was weighing down so heavily that Bobby was sure he'd be crushed.

He should be happy. Should be ecstatic, bouncing off the walls with some made up song on his lips. But right now Bobby can't think of _shoulds_ , only _what-ifs._

What if he doesn't get the job. What if he doesn't get a job period, and is forced to move away from Patrick, from the neighbor he hasn't met yet, from Bikini Bottom. To have his dreams shattered at a mere twenty years old.

''Hey.'' Patrick says, with the force like he's been talking for a while and Bobby has only just heard him. ''Bobby, you breathing buddy? You need the lights off?''

Bobby shakes his head, fingers digging into Patrick's bright pink Hawaiian shirt like a life line. Patrick, wonderful Patrick understands and lets Bobby bury his face deep into his chest. Moments pass, and Patrick just rubs little circles into Bobby's back. For Bobby to do this, panic and have a sensory overload has happened enough that he knows what to do. They wait it out together, till Bobby no longer feels like he's being crushed. Just squished by his best buddy.

Bobby taps Patrick's bicep weakly and he losses his grip, allowing the younger man to pull away. He looks, well, not _great._ Weepy, something in his eyes not quite as bright. But its a step up from where he was moments before, and Patrick prefers this to seeing Bobby bottle his feelings up.

''Sorry Pat...''

''Don't be buddy.'' They aren't pressed up against each other any more, but Patrick keeps a hand on Bobby's knee. ''I'd hold you all night if it would make you feel better.''

Bobby makes a noise that Patrick can sort of qualify as a chuckle, and goes to rub at his eyes. It's embarrassing, always is, but Bobby can't say he'd prefer anyone other than Pat seeing him like that. He trusts that his friend is the only one in the world that could look at him weep over his dream job, and still not think of him like he was a dumb kid.

''I don't-'' Bobby stops, wheezes, and goes to grab at Patrick's hand. ''I can't do it Pat. It's just too good to be true. Why would Mr. Krabbe hire me? A stranger?''

And Patrick doesn't have all the answers, but for Bobby he'd damn well try. No one other than Bobby every really asked for his opinion, let alone trusted it wholeheartedly. If Bobby wanted it, though Pat knew he wouldn't, he'd march up to the Krusty Krab and demand that old cheep-stake hire his best friend.

''Why wouldn't he hire you?'' Patrick counters instead. ''It's a family place, right?''

''Right...''

''What's more family friendly that you? You can cook, you look like you couldn't hurt a fly, _and_ you fit right in with Bikini Bottom.''

''Really?'' Bobby asks, a hopeful something creeping in his voice.

''Really buddy. You were born to work at the Krusty Krab.''

And then, like the flip of a switch Bobby gets that determined glint in his eyes. He nods jerkily, and forces himself to stand on those legs that Patrick is suddenly noticing are kinda buff. Bobby had always been flexible, but since when did his buddy look like _that?_

Bobby shouts his mantra of ' _I'm Ready!",_ snapping Patrick out of his runaway thoughts. Abort, abort. Now is not the time to be thinking of that, Pat. Bobby is looking back at him with a hand outstretched and Patrick tries not to gulp.

''Help me pick out an outfit Pat!''

It takes an hour, but Patrick wouldn't trade a second of it.

\--------

The Krusty Krab is bigger than Bobby remembered it to be. The theme isn't quite pirates, but a mix of some sort of underwater mesh. The seats are barrels that look uncomfortable.

Bobby _loves it._

He's near to vibrating where he stands, Patrick's warmth at his side a pillar of strength. They haven't gone it yet, but Bobby's working up the will.

The glass is actually a bit hard to look through, but Patrick is staring. Bobby doesn't really think much of it until he's being elbowed in the side.

''That's Edward.'' Patrick says. ''Edward Telford.''

''Whoford?''

''Telford. The guy who lives between us.''

Bobby follows towards where Patrick is vaguely gesturing. Sure enough standing behind a counter shaped like a boat is the man Bobby only just got a look at in his few days after moving in. Edward doesn't look too happy where he is, slouched with a book under his fingers, but all Bobby can think is _wow._ It's like fate had brought him to this moment. In a sappy way, Bobby wondered if he was always meant to work here like Pat claimed.

That is, if he got the job. The sign is there, sure enough, and Bobby gulps down a breath of air. Seeming to sense the doubt creeping up his friend again Patrick nudges him.

''You got this Bobby. Remember, he has no reason to turn you down.''

Bobby nods, trying to muster up the optimism that usually runs in his body. It takes a moment to find, and a moment longer to boot up. But eventually, almost in a blur, Bobby finds himself actually standing inside the restaurant. He feels sick but shoves it down. Throwing up would not make a very good impression.

Edward doesn't look up at Bobby till he's tapping on the counter, and when he does there's distaste in his eyes.

''Can I help you?" Telford asks, looking like he's hoping Bobby would shrivel up then and there.

''Uh, the sign outside.'' Bobby twists to point at it, as if it would help. ''I wanted, uh, that is. I'd like to apply.''

Edward makes a face but sets his book down. Then he's stretching to his full height and Bobby realizes that his new neighbor is even taller than Patrick. The man is Bobby's elder by at least two decades, and unless Bobby's wrong, there's a protective glint in his eyes. Then again, The Krusty Krab is family owned. Edward must be close to the owner.

''I see.'' Seeming to at least not hate what he sees in Bobby, Edward gestures to a door to his right. ''Eugene is in there. Knock and say Edward sent you.''

''Th-thank you!'' Bobby fights the urge to do something dumb like bow and scampers away. If standing outside The Krusty Krab had been hard, then standing outside Mr. Krabbe's office was impossible. All he had to do was knock, but Bobby couldn't feel his arms anymore. He craned his neck something desperate, eyes catching Patrick sitting a table away. His friend gave a pair of thumbs up, and part of Bobby's fear sunk away. He was still terrified, sure, but with Patrick here he could actually do this.

Bobby raised a hand and knocked, the sound echoing in his ears. A awful beat passes before a gruff voice is telling him to come in, and shut the door behind him. Bobby does so before his legs try to up and run.

Eugene Krabbe is exactly how Bobby remembers him. An older man, hair that seemed to never be fully dyed red, and large hands. He's not mean looking, exactly, but he commands respect. He's looking at Bobby strangely, judgmentally, and Bobby realizes the test for his employment has probably already begun.

''Uh, hello sir, Mr. Krabbe's sir.'' Bobby wishes he had something to hold on to, like a hat to wring in his hands. ''My name is Robert Porter sir. I've come to apply.''

''Ain't you a bit young?'' Mr. Krabbe waves a hand up and down towards Bobby. ''I'm not looking to break any labor laws here son.''

''I'm actually twenty, sir.'' It comes out more forcefully than Bobby meant, and he flinches. ''I mean, I'm old enough. And I'm a cook. Or I want to be. I'm a real hard worker too.''

''Hard worker, eh?''

''Yes sir.'' Bobby is nodding like his life depends on it, and truthfully, it feels like it does. ''I just want a chance, is all.''

The older man narrows his eyes at Bobby, then stands. He is, of course, taller. When he approaches Bobby he can see a gold chain around the mans neck.

''My last cook left after being offered a better paying job. You'd have a lot to make up for boy. And this ain't no regular restaurant. Even if I did hire you, I'd fire you for not being the right fit.''

''That's why I like this place!'' Bobby exclaims before he can stop himself. ''It's a family place. Food always tastes better from home after all. I want to learn how to cook like that for everyone.''

It must of taken Mr. Krabbe's by surprise, what he said, cause the man doesn't speak for a very long time. Bobby does not dare try to break the silence, but he can feel the anxiety creeping up on him. And this time Patrick isn't here to comfort him. It's something messy he's going to spiral into, but the shock of feeling Mr. Krabbe clap him on the back is enough to jolt Bobby back into reality. The man looks _happy._ Or amused, at the least. It's a long way from the probing curiosity he had just a moment ago.

''I like you Robert.'' And he almost goes down at that. ''How's about we do a trail run? Come back tomorrow, seven in the morning and we'll see how you man a grill.''

Bobby can't answer and thankfully Mr. Krabbe just looks even more amused at that. And even, unless Bobby is hallucinating, which is a very real probability, Mr. Krabbe almost looks fond.

''T-thank you sir...'' Bobby manages to squeak out in a weak breath. ''You won't regret this.''

''I'm sure I won't. Now out, I'm a busy man you know.''

And then Bobby is standing in the middle of the restaurant, Patrick at his side. His friend looks smug when Bobby fills him in on what happened. Like Patrick couldn't imagine any other ending than this one. 

It's not even a for sure thing. Just a test. But Bobby cannot keep the smile from nearly cracking his face in half. Just having the option of working here is more than he ever expected to have. Tonight would be nerve wracking for sure, and Bobby didn't expect to get a wink of sleep, but right now he felt ready to float off the ground.

When they were once more back in the privacy of Bobby's apartment he threw himself at his friend, enough force behind it to nearly knock Patrick over. Patrick huffs fondly, but they don't speak. Don't need to.

Dreams are coming true for Bobby Porter, and Patrick Starr would be there every step of the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *screams into the void*  
> We're taking this ride together folks, you and me. Like I said before this is all gonna end up as a plotted story line, with filler chapters in between. Since this is a human au it won't be as silly as the show, and I will be following things like the laws of human limitation (so no squeezing through cracks for Bobby) but you can expect mostly humor, with the odd angst splash in. Like Bobby's panic attack and sensory overload, which is based on myself lol.  
> Next chapter we'll be meeting a Texas girl, can you guess who?  
> Feel free to leave prompts in the comments! Love y'all -Afreerobin


	2. Team Of Tres

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobby and Patrick meets someone new.

Bobby saw the girl a week into his new job. She was someone he had never seen before, and while Bobby had only just lived in Bikini Bottom a month, he had gone around introducing himself to the residents. There was always a chance he just missed her, but Bobby was pretty confident in his ability to commit faces to memory. A quick word to Patrick, a two year Bikini Bottomite confirmed it.

''Nope,'' He had said, popping the _p._ ''Never seen her before. Must be newer than you.''

Bobby couldn't keep the excitement from his face. It was always awkward being the newest face in town, and now just a few weeks into his move there was already someone fresher to Bikini Bottom them him. The girl must be nervous too. Not everyone was lucky enough to have someone like Patrick to welcome them. Why, without his buddy Bobby was sure it would of taken ages for him to fit in with the town. That girl needed someone too.

''We should go talk to her Patrick. Bring her cookies, or something.''

Patrick raised his head. It was Sunday, Bobby's day off, so they had decided to lounge around Pat's apartment. While not as clean as Bobby's, it had a comfortable lived in vibe. All sorts of knickknacks from Patrick's many jobs really brought it together. Bobby couldn't say it was exactly his style, but it was Patrick's, and that was all that mattered.

''Or _we_ could just eat the cookies ourselves.''

Flopping down next to his friend, Bobby poked at his stomach. It was soft enough to get lost in, but now wasn't the time for that. ''That girl moved in all by herself! Maybe she's lonely. She doesn't have a Patrick to welcome her to town.''

A bit of Patrick's resolve cracks at that, but it's no real surprise. Bobby had a way of looking at Patrick and making him think anything the short fellow said was gospel. It didn't help that lately Pat's legs seemed a bit more wobbly, bit more weak when Bobby stared at him like _that._ He grunted for the show of it. A Sunday with Bobby would be good no matter what, even if he didn't get to lounge on the couch anymore.

''Alright buddy. You win.'' He pulled himself up from his slouch, nudging a sluggish elbow towards Bobby. ''But I get to eat cookie dough.''

''Cookie dough is bad for you Pat.''

''Maybe for you, but _I_ have an iron stomach.''

They go to Bobby's apartment, only because he had the correct kitchen equipment. Not like its much of a walk anyway. Just a step passed Edwards door, peacefully silent today, and there they were. Patrick really counted himself lucky Bobby managed to move so close to him.

A low meow greets them as they shuffle in. Gary is up high on the cat tree Bobby splurged on, staring intently at his owner. Patrick always liked the little beast. It was hairless, some breed he couldn't remember the name of and wore just about the ugliest sweater he had ever seen. Bobby insisted Gary loved the neon purple and pink thing and since he had seen the cat nearly claw a finger off when it had to be removed, he was inclined to believe it. If it wasn't so _Bobby_ he'd find it an eyesore.

Bobby practically bounds to his pet, leaving Patrick to shut the door behind them. ''Gare-bear!'' He sing songs. ''What have you been up to today?''

Like he could understand Bobby, (and Patrick was about fifty percent sure he _could)_ a reply was meowed.

''Oh really?'' Says Bobby. ''Well, Pat and I will leave you to it.''

And just like that Patrick is following Bobby - _he'd always follow Bobby_ \- into the kitchen. It's like a dance, almost, watching Bobby swish around the place, ingredients cradled in his arms. With his first paycheck he had bought a surplus of kitchen supplies if just for the excuse of cooking for others. Without even realizing it Patrick finds himself breathless. How Bobby can be elbow deep in egg and flour and still completely enrapture him is something Pat could never know.

Wasn't sure he wanted to know, truthfully.

With that messy spiral shoved into the farthest pit of his mind Patrick moves forward, busying himself by grabbing a hand full of chocolate chips. Bobby swats at him with the wooden spoon he's using. He misses, and the playful glint in his eyes tell Patrick it was on purpose. Ever since Bobby was ten and given permission to use the kitchen it had always been like this. Bobby would work his magic while Pat cut, or mashed, or peeled whatever was needed. If a few pieces ended up being taste tested, well, Bobby couldn't count that as a loss. 

''What kind are you making?'' Pat asks, ushering a egg shell into the trash.

''Sugar and chocolate chip. I think those would be the safest option. She might have allergies we don't know about.'' His lips purse. ''Oh, I wish I knew what her favorite was.''

That's his Bobby. Patrick knows firsthand that most people wouldn't bake a surplus of homemade treats for some stranger, let alone go out of their way to to keep it safe. It's not like Bobby is naive or anything. The odd thing goes over their head, sure, but Bobby just had this way of seeing people as future friends, rather than anything else. Even with the real possibility this girl shuts the door in their faces, here Bobby is, fretting that she won't like freshly baked cookies.

''Well if she doesn't like them I'll eat 'em.''

Bobby snorts, spooning dollops of dough out. Hes methodical about it in a way only cooking makes him. Each portion of dough is a picture perfect match to its neighbor. Bobby's concentrating, tounge just peaking out of the corner of his mouth. Patrick finds it so utterly adorable that all he can do is swipe up a bit of the uncooked sweet.

Even like this it tastes great, but with Bobby that's a given. By the time each tray is being put in the oven it's a bit later, and Bobby's shirt is covered in enough flour that you could hardly see the bright patterns underneath. He picks at it with a look of discomfort.

''I should change. Shower too.'' Bobby looks to the oven than back at Patrick, who's completely flourless, the brat. "Can you take those out in twelve minutes?''

Patrick salutes, which earns him a laugh. "Yes sir! You might be down a few men though. Collateral damage."

With all his might Bobby tries to look exasperated, but it comes out as nothing but fond. He wags a finger as he makes his way to the bathroom. '"Don't eat them right away Pat. You'll burn yourself.''

"I can promise nothing."

The door closes to Bobby's laughter.

\----

It's five feet from the apartment building, boxes of cookies held safe in their arms does Bobby realize something very important. He stops, and Patrick keeps going a few steps before he realizes.

''Oh no.'' Says Bobby.

''What's wrong?'' Patrick joins him, taking the two boxes from Bobby's hands as he does. It's a knee-jerk reaction for the two of them. Bobby's looking worried now, big eyes and pinched brows. For a moment Pat thinks maybe they left the oven on, or that somehow Gary got out and Bobby was just omnipresent about his cat.

''I don't know where she lives.''

Oh. There's also that. Patrick himself had no idea where they were going, and had just assumed Bobby was leading the way. In reality not that big of a deal, but Bobby looked ready to drive himself to fever. When it came to his food and the intended recipient it was always a life or death situation. He couldn't just bake these cookies from the girl and _not_ give them to her. The blasphemy of it all. 

''Um...'' Patrick finds himself floundering for a beat longer than he would of liked. He had actually only seen the girl once, and that was in brief passing. In fact, if push came to shove Pat wasn't very sure he could point her out of a crowd. The little voice in his head that says they should just go back up to Bobby's and gorge themselves on the cookies gets thrown under a rock, and Patrick balances all four boxes in one hand just so he could take Bobby's.

''How bout this.'' He says, and Bobby looks at him like he's desperate for something good. ''You've seen her a few times, yeah? Lets go to those places and see if we can Sherlock her out.''

Then Bobby is smiling, a relieved flutter to his eyelids. ''You're the best Pat. Thanks.''

''No problem buddy.''

With that problem solved Bobby is back to bounding around, leading Patrick like he always does. The first spot Bobby remembers seeing her is down by the beach shore, tucked away by crumbling rocks that were usually overlooked. She had been practicing some sort of martial arts then, and Bobby had nearly glowed as he retailed Patrick with the details. It isn't a place Patrick can say he's visited often, and he's not quite sure how Bobby managed to find such a place so quickly, but it wasn't like he got out often. Heck, if the new girl managed to find it, it was probably in plain sight.

Bobby always loved the beach. Back when he lived with his parents they didn't get to go often, a tribute to Bobby's pasty skin, but it was something he treasured. Many residents liked to gather round the ocean, but today was a rather windy one, so it was near to empty when they arrived. The lifeguard was there, along with a family on a blanket. Patrick didn't see the girl but Bobby was still pulling him along happily, so it seemed they weren't there yet.

They end up at an outcropping a little ways away from the beach, near to hidden. Now Patrick can see why someone could come here. It was peaceful, a good place for a nap, or a picnic. Maybe he and Bobby could come back here one day. If he could find that old projector that was somewhere in his apartment they could have a Mermaid Man marathon.

''Pat!'' Bobby hisses at once, slapping his friends arm in quick succession. ''Look!''

Patrick does, and sure enough, there's someone here. She's tall, though maybe an inch or two shorter than him if he had to guess. Black skin, with a flower in her adimtably awesome hair. It's puffed out like a halo around her head, and Patrick can understand why Bobby was so fascinated with finding her.

''I can't believe she was in the first place we looked.'' Bobby is saying, giving Patrick a look that is absolutely infectious. Then he's off, and Pat has to scamper after him. ''Miss! Hey, Miss doing the _ka-ra-tay_!''

She startles, but Bobby is thankfully still far enough that he doesn't have to worry about accidentally get chopped at in her shock. Her martial pose is held for just a moment before she relaxes, almost sheepish looking at being caught.

''Uh, howdy?''

If possible Bobby just beams brighter at her accent. It's a nice southern drawl that they didn't hear very often. He thrusts the boxes towards her and she takes them without hesitation, most likely too confused for anything else. Patrick had caught up by now, and he gives a nod of greeting. She meets his eyes for just a moment, then turns her focus back on the one in front of her.

''Sorry if we spooked you!'' Her lips turn up at that, but Bobby keeps going. ''But we were just so excited to find you!''

The girl puts both boxes under one arm and offers a hand to Bobby, now looking more amused than anything. ''My name's Sandy. Pleasure to meet y'all.''

''Oh!'' Bobby takes her hand and gives an excited little shake, then motions to Patrick and himself. ''I'm Bobby, and this is my best friend Patrick.''

''Hey.'' Patrick offers.

''We baked you some cookies as a house warming gift! Since you're new to Bikini Bottom and all.''

''Shucks, that's...'' Sandy pops open one of the boxes, likely to check they weren't trying to pull some prank on her, and looks pleasantly surprised at the sight of warm cookies. She smiles, this time real and a bit shy. ''That's might nice of y'all. I don't know what to say.''

Bobby scoffs, and waves a hand. ''Don't worry about it. I'm happy for an excuse to cook.''

''It's true.'' Patrick says, and Sandy takes an actual look at him now. ''Bobby is a great cook. He works at The Krusty Krab too, and that's the most popular place in town.''

''Is it?''

She's sounding curious now, which makes sense if Bobby thought about it. He hadn't seen her once at The Krusty Krab, and since he was there practically every moment it was open she probably hadn't been. It's a mistake too many tourists make, in Bobby's humble opinion. Not everyone believed such a town favorite could have a name like that.

Bobby tries, and fails to not flush as Patrick's praise. He nudges his friend to no prevail, then takes the final two boxes to hand to Sandy. She looks down at them thoughtfully then hums, rasing a finger in the air.

''I have an idea! Why don't y'all come back to my place and we can have some tea with these bad boys?''

Patrick, who' never turn down a chance at eating more of Bobby's cookies nods, and while Bobby feels like the polite thing to do would be to turn her down, there's something about Sandy he can't say no to. With little cajoling, and an unfair use of Patrick's puppy dog eyes, he agrees.

''Boys,'' Sandy says, and something in Patrick and Bobby are lighter for it. ''Y'all keep doing stuff like this and we could be tighter than bark on a tree.''

The three laugh, and Bobby can imagine life going on like this forever. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie, had a bit of trouble ending this one. But hey, we did it. As a born and bred Texan I've always loved Sandy. You can bet these three will be getting into trouble as time goes on.
> 
> Next chapter will have more of our dear old Edward, who's going to like these three brats even if he will never admit it.


	3. Edward, My Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward finds himself giving three drunk twenty somethings a ride home.

Structure was a very important part of Edward Telford's life. He liked it when things were done right and proper. Like a beautiful pitch of notes, or the expert stroke of a brush. In his perfect world everything was done as such. Nothing was out of place, and he belonged.

In his perfect world Edward did not have neighbors.

Patrick, truthfully, wasn't _that_ bad for the first two years. As long as he was alone the lad mostly stayed indoors. Edward wasn't actually sure what his profession was, but it kept him out most nights, leaving a stretch of much needed silence. Not ideal, but Edward had made worse work before. It was a routine he kept for the period he had Patrick as his sole neighbor.

Then Robert Porter moved in. The young man was a walking eyesore, all joyful patterns and cheery greetings. The enthusiasm he possessed was so abundant that Edward felt drained just being near it. Not to mention just how much _yellow_ Robert wore. He dressed like he had just stepped out of the sun, too damn bright and warm. It infected Edward's perfectly good neighbor and made Patrick almost as much of an annoyance. 

Patrick looked at Robert like he hung the moon and stars. Robert sought after Patrick like a moth to a flame. Edward didn't think either of the boys noticed it either. He hadn't asked, didn't care to, but the lingering glances where so obvious that only buffoons who had known each other since childhood could miss it. The less sinical part of Edward wished they would work it out. The rest of him prayed it would never happen, less he be saddled with sappy lovesick fools who actually knew what they were doing.

When the girl showed up and their merry band became a trio, Edward had actually dared to think she would whip the two boys into shape. She was clearly smart, a good head on her shoulders, and hadn't tried to hug him when Robert introduced her. All in all Edward had high hope those two idiots wouldn't infect her as well with their overly expressive attitudes.

That hope was crushed in the first hour.

From what Edward could tell, Sandra's first visit to Robert's (as well as very loud tromping to Patrick's) they had ended the day in some sort of sing along. A barbaric pop tune that floated unending through Edward's walls. All he really got from it was that it had something to do with mermaids. Mermen? Childish drivel he'd say.

The weeks dragged on this way, the three youngsters so joint at the hip that nearly every hour outside of work were spent together. Unfortunately for Edward two thirds of this time was usually on either side of his apartment. At times he attempted to drown them out with his clarinet, but no one could produce any sort of art under that kind of pressure.

But today? Today Edward lucked out. It was one of the rare occasions Eugene gave them the weekend off, opting to take Pearl out for family bonding before the girl got too old and too cool to spend time with her dad. Given this Robert had informed Edward that he and Patrick were going over to Sandra's for a sleepover, and could he _please_ feed Gary? Since this meant a weekend free of his two neighboring headaches, he had agreed readily. Facing the little hairless beast two times a day was more than welcoming in this case.

It was day two of the best vacation Edward had had in years. The sun was just beginning to dip, showing off the beautiful golden sky Bikini Bottom flourished under. Feeling the urge to paint it, Edward got about to gathering his supplies. Maybe, if he was feeling frisky, he'd even brew some tea and sneak a shot of whisky in it.

He was poised at the blank canvas, ready to begin what was surely going to be a masterpiece, when the phone off to his side rang. Edward's arm dropped, but he found confusion climbing up him instead of annoyance. Not many had his number, and even fewer actually called him. Eugene had at times, Pearl too, if needed. But with those two set to be gone till tomorrow night, Edward was truly at a loss for who could be calling. The number was unfamiliar to him as well.

It was probably some robot caller, or someone wanting to sell him something. Fat chance for that. Face puckered, he snatched the device up and tucked it up to his head, one hand on his hip. He'd still answer, in the off chance Eugene really did need him. If not, he'd just hang up.

''You've reached Edward Telford. Who is calling?''

''ED _WARD!''_

The volume of the voice made him flinch. He'd know that yell anywhere. Of _course,_ it _had_ to be Robert.

''Robert!'' Edward's lips curled downward. It wasn't fair. Today was supposed to be his vacation. The three devils on his shoulder were _not_ going to ruin it. ''Why are you calling me so late? And how did you get my number? I never gave it to you.''

Bobby took a deep breath on the other end of the line, like he needed to steady himself. There was a faint lurch in Edwards gut that he promptly ignored. He was annoyed, not concerned in the slightest, thank you very much.

'Edward. Eddie. Ed.'' In what Edward assumed was an attempt to be quieter Robert continued. ''Listen. Are you listening?"

''Yes, Robert. Get on with it.''

''Listen. Pearl gave me your number. She said you were too grumpy to do it yourself.''

Edward grunted. It was completely unsurprising. Robert's tendency to act like a twelve year old boy would pair well with Pearl's eleven year old interests. With the fact she was actually taller than Robert, Edward saw how she fought for the new cook's attention. A puppy crush, if Edward had to say, but Robert had proved to be completely clueless when it came to those things.

Pearl was lucky Edward was fond of her, the little brat.

''Eddie-'' Robert was continuing, and Edward could hear commotion in the background. ''Eddie you gotta listen. It's very important.''

'' _Bobby, hurry up!''_

_''Don't rush him Sandy!''_

Eugh. Edward knew those voices as well, even if they were off in the background. Patrick and Sandra, Robert's cohorts. Something about them sounded off, but then again nearly everything about Robert and co were.

''Alright!'' He snapped. ''Robert you still haven't told me why you're calling me so late.''

''Oh, right.'' A deep intake of air, then; ''Edward could you pretty please be the best neighbor in the whole world and come pick us up and drive us home?''

Edward blinked once, twice, thrice as what was just said processed inside of him. So many things stood out as wrong. He made a point to hardly speak to Robert at work, and all but avoided him at their apartment building. The fact that Robert had just so bluntly asked something like that was almost laughable. He did chuckle, for the hell of it, but it was dry and full of exasperation.

''Robert are you joking? Aren't the three of you at Sandra's? I know she has a van, I saw it.''

'' _Nooooo._ Eddie you don't understand. We're drunk. Sandy can't drive us! That's _illegal_.''

Even more so than Robert's request was this a shock. Edward had seen Robert turn down an after work drink at The Krusty Krab under the pretense of his age. Even when Eugene insisted that twenty wasn't that far from twenty one, he had still refused it. It had been believable that Robert would be such a stickler, but now Edward didn't so sure. Maybe he had just turned down Eugene's offer thinking it was some sort of test.

''Aren't you...'' He motioned uselessly into the air despite no one being able to see him. ''Aren't you underage?''

''Not anymore!'' Robert declared, a cheer from his friends sounding off behind him. ''Today's my birthday!''

_''Whoo!''_

_''Twenty one!!''_

''Pat and Sandy took me _drink~ing!_ We were gonna call a Tuber to take us home, but they don't drive from Bass Vegas to Bikini Bottom. And we can't drive Sandy's van back cause we're drunk!''

_"And you can't drive!"_

''That too, thank you Patrick.''

He wasn't really listening anymore. That was a near forty minute drive. Maybe a bit less, now that it was getting dark, but Edward really did not want to go. Not only was it way out of his way, but it would ruin his reputation. Might even cause Robert to think Edward liked him. If that happened, Robert would try even harder to worm himself into Edward's life. He would say no, hang up and go back to his panting. It would be good for these three to learn a lesson and have their day ruined.

Except, Edward knew what it was like to reach a milestone age like twenty one and have it be the absolute pits. Most of his birthdays, actually. When he had his mother it had been no big deal. Edward hadn't needed other kids to buy him some useless lump of junk and sing around a cake. Mother _always_ made up for it.

Robert had his friends. Probably had other people he could of called, now that Edward was thinking about it. Robert made friends as easy as he made Krabby Patties. It was near second nature for the boy. And Edward didn't even _like_ him, yet Robert had chosen him as his go to. It made him feel....weird. Close to the warmth he could see in people's eyes when they looked at Robert's smile.

It wasn't like he was evil, Edward rationalized. Not ruining the kids birthday was the civil thing to do, it didn't have to mean Robert was growing on him. Like a leech, or a parasite. Anything that could be removed.

Resolved cracked, Edward sighed. Even if he did just hang up right now, a little siren in his head would be going off reminding him he had practically abandoned three drunk _kids_ in a city like Bass Vegas. On his worst days Edward wasn't that mean.

''Alright, fine.'' Another set of cheers erupted from his phone and Edward did his best no to back out then and there. ''Text me where you three are and I will be there in the hour.''

''You're the best Eddie! _Mwah!_ ''

The call clicked away at that note and Edward just shuttered. Those three would be in for the lecture of their lives when he got there. Patrick, twenty three and the oldest should of known to plan ahead for his best friends celebration. Or Sandra, so smart should of had some sort of plan for them getting home. Robert was no real surprise. 

His phone dinged once more, and Edward steeled himself.

**Number Unknown**

**?: Edd ie! !**

**?: Its me**

**?: BObby**

**?: Were here!! !1!**

**?: S Shell St, Bass Vegas**

**?: Tanks love you!!1 ❤😍😚**

Edward pushed down what was most certainly not a smile and grumbled. It would be a long drive, but he feared the one back more.

\---

The three dolts were huddled under a old looking overpass when Edward arrived. Robert was almost perched against Patrick, and Sandy had a steadying arm round them both. If Edward wasn't so gloomy about having to do this he'd find it funny.

He honked, and all three jumped near a foot in the air. Patrick had to stabilize Robert to keep him from face planting into the dirty ground. They all laughed like it was the funniest thing they had seen all night and scampered over to Edward's car when it was clear he wouldn't be getting out to greet them.

Sandra was the fastest, and slid into his passenger seat with all the grace she could muster. A pink flower was still in her hair. She shot Edward a smile, and he could see she could at least handle her liquor somewhat. In the back Robert was struggling to get his seat-belt in place. Patrick, still tipsy but easily the most sober reached out to help him. With his build Edward assumed Patrick could out drink anyone in this car under the table if he wanted. Robert just giggled, high pitched and face red. 

So, Robert was a lightweight. How utterly expected.

''Edward.'' And then a hand was placed on his shoulder. He glanced at it briefly, saw it was Sandra's, then locked his gaze back on the road. ''Thanks for doing this. We really wanted Bobby to have a great birthday, and we didn't plan out the day like we should of.''

''Yeah.'' That was Patrick, albeit a bit quieter. The fact Robert hadn't spoken yet was concerning. ''You're a lifesaver Ed.''

Edward huffed, looking at the currently quietest member of the trio in his mirror. All of the energy he had during the phone call before hand seemed to be gone. Robert look like he was struggling to stay awake now, fidgeting in his seat like an unruly child. It made Edward remember that despite claims to the contrary, these three were still very young. Adults, sure, but only just. Edward had been in college by the time they had all been born. Back then he had longed for people to treat him like any other adult. In some ways it had felt nice, but now, mid forties, Edward wished he had taken more time to be young.

''Look,'' He said, and all three focused on him with different levels of attention. ''I get it. You three are young, and you should enjoy it. But you have to think of things like this next time.''

''Sorry...'' Patrick and Sandra chorused, with Robert muttering along. 

''It's alright. And I can't believe I'm saying this, but if you have no other choice I'd rather you all call me instead of doing something stupid like trying to walk home drunk. That being said, do not make this a habit.''

''Aww, Eddie you big softie.''

''Don't ''Aww, Eddie,'' me Patrick. Now all of you be quiet. Robert looks dead asleep back there.''

Either by force of his word, or just by not wanting to wake their little buddy the car fell into a quick silence. It wasn't as awkward as Edward expected it to be, but he still turned the radio on to be safe. Something soft, turned down low. He really didn't want to risk waking Robert. The poor kid was going to need as much rest as he could get with the hangover he'd be nursing in the morning.

By the time Edward had reached their apartment building both Patrick and Sandra had joined Robert in his nap. He pulled the car to a stop and switched it off, suddenly loathed to break this peaceful moment. If you forced Edward, life or death, he'd admit these three weren't so bad. Asleep, that is.

Since staying in a car with drunk kids in their twenties any longer would start to feel creepy Edward reached across to wake Sandra. She stirred easily enough, blinking up at him.

''We're home.'' He said softly, wondering when home included all four of them.

''Mmh. Okay.'' Sandra uncurled herself, then slipped out of her seat belt to stretch across to Patrick and Robert. She woke them with a gentle touch that was so domestic that Edward began to suspect that it wasn't just his neighbors who were the lovesick fools.

Now _that_ was something Edward needed to be drunk to think about.

It took longer than necessary to get all three out of his car but eventually Edward found himself ushering them up the stairs. Robert still looked half asleep, but he managed a sluggish smile in Edward's direction. Sandra took out her own key to Robert's apartment, which by this point her having was no real shock, and fumbled for only a moment before getting it open. She stumbled in and Edward saw her let herself into Robert's bedroom with no hesitation. An image of the three huddled in Robert's bed like some sort of adorable mess of limbs shot across Edward's mind and he scowled to get rid of it. 

Patrick, one arm supporting nearly all of Robert's weight started to tug him in but the shorter lad shot a hand out, catching the door frame. He turned himself to face Edward, looking like he did the day Eugene first gave him a job.

''M'sorry Eddie.'' Robert said, low enough that Edward had to strain to hear. ''I'll cook you a big ol' dinner one day, as thank for being m'hero tonight. Okay?''

Then, not even waiting for Edward's response Patrick fully scooped his friend up, taking the weight like it was nothing, and went inside. Edward was left with one final '' _thanks man''_ before the door closed.

Well then.

Left with nothing else to do Edward went back to his own home, everything just as he left it. His equipment was still waiting to be used, but he didn't much feel like painting anymore. More than ever now he noticed how quiet it was next door. They probably hadn't even changed clothes, just piled into Robert's bed and passed out. Even in the morning Edward doubted he'd be hearing them, all too occupied with their hangovers to be loud and annoying. For once Edward found himself looking forward to the end of the weekend, when things would go back to normal.

He took his phone from his pocket, staring down at the texts Robert had sent him, number still telling Edward it was unknown. His contacts were nearly barren, save for his boss and boss's child, as well as a few family members he hadn't spoken to in years. Something indescribable pulled at his face.

In the end, Edward saved the number under **Robert, My Neighbor**.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey now we got a timeline going! Officially Spongebob's birthday is July 17, and so is Bobby's. We're no where near July right now, but half way through writing this I realized Bobby wouldn't break a law like that, even if he could.
> 
> Also, I've never actually drank, nor do I like to be around drunk people, so my portrayal of the Team of Tres is a complete guess from media I've consumed lol. Fingers crossed it comes out believable. 🤞


	4. As The Sun Goes Down Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things go very wrong before they can go right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Description of appendicitis (spoiler alert) and all the nasty that comes with it

When Bobby wakes its early. Not usually a shocker, but he can't see any crawling light from the window positioned across the room. It's dark out, and a quick glance at the clock on his bed side table (its shaped like a fog horn, a gag gift from Patrick) tells Bobby its three in the morning.

Which, even for Bobby, is earlier than anyone should be getting up. The reasoning behind this unwelcome awakening becomes very clear very suddenly.

Bobby feels like hes in agony.

The heaviness behind his eyes doesn't lessen at all, but Bobby is too preoccupied with the knife twisting in his abdomen that he can't feel tired anymore. He grunts, beads of sweat collecting at his scalp. It's near to torture, and Bobby can't keep the hissed whine from escaping his clamped teeth.

When Bobby was seven his cousin Jack had pushed him off of the jungle gym. It had been one of the rare family gatherings that Patrick couldn't attend, some illness or prior engagement keeping him away. Jack, only a year older than Bobby had loved to torment his much smaller cousin. Patrick had made for a good body guard, easily able to shield Bobby with his own self if needed. That day, with Pat gone, Jack had taken his golden opportunity. It had ended with Bobby breaking his arm, and it had hurt so much he couldn't really remember much other than the pain, hot and flaring, and the sterilized white of the hospital. He never even anyone it was Jack.

Right now Bobby would take a broken arm any day. Nothing compared to whatever was going on with him right in this second. Even wished Jack was here, if to just not be so alone in this pain. 

In the back of his mind the reasonable voice that had only grown since meeting Sandy is telling him that he should do something. Pain responds with furor, telling him that so much as moving is just about the worst idea in the world. Bobby isn't sure which to believe. He just wants this to _end._

Gary meows low and pitiful but Bobby can't find it in him to apologize for waking the cat like he usually would. He's crying, not sure when he started, but there seems to be no sign of it stopping anytime soon.

Time passes, as it does, and the pain moves lower in his body. It's completely nauseating and Bobby rolls over, only just managing to vomit on his floor rather than the bed. Gary howls now and skids to the floor, tail thrashing but not willing to leave his owners room.

At this point, feverish and sticky Bobby realizes that he needs to act if anything more is going to happen. Reaching his phone takes more effort than he ever thought possible, and the light that comes from it when he unlocks the screen is so bright that his eyes snap shut, a headache wrapped around his temples.

Bobby doesn't call Patrick, or Sandy, or even Edward like he wants to. Having a friend by his side is oh so very tempting, but now Bobby is panicking enough that he thinks any longer here he might actually _die,_ and that an ambulance is his best option.

He shakily dials the number, thankful its only three buttons to push, and waits in agonizing pain. A woman, sounding too chipper for even Bobby right now answers.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"I-I'm..." Bobby blanches, but grips his phone tighter. He _needs_ to get this out. "I'm hu-hurt...Don't-dont know why....Need help..."

"Alright sir, we'll send an ambulance your way. Can you tell me your address?"

"Conch Street, Apartment com-complex...Room 124."

"Thank you sir. Can you tell me your name?"

He can feel that his energy is dwindling as time goes by, but Bobby's politeness is second nature enough that he answers anyway.

''B...Bobby."

"Bobby." There's a smile to her voice, and he feels the slightest comfort to it. ''Stay on the line with me Bobby. The ambulance is five minutes away. Can you do that?"

It's an eternity to wait, but Bobby has no choice.

\---

When Patrick wakes it's a surprise. He's a deep sleeper on his best days, nearly comatose on his worse. Really only Bobby, and now Sandy by extension, have ever been able to get him up before his body decides it's time. 

So when he wakes Patrick doesn't move, just stares at the flaking popcorn ceiling above him. It's old, and faintly purple. He'd call it vintage. Bobby'd call it fun. Sandy would probably tell them something they don't know about popcorn ceilings and they would _oh_ and _ah_ in return.

Damn. Patrick really needs to stop thinking about his two best friends right when he wakes up.

Speaking of which, he hasn't actually figured out why he is awake. Bobby starts work at eight, and Sandy has some sort of current chart to plan down at Goo Lagoon today, so it wasn't like they were around to get his attention. Maybe, and he comes to this thought with a start, maybe he was just thinking about them hard enough to rouse himself.

That's. That's a lot to think about, and it was much too early to do so. Patrick promptly goes to ignore it and shuts his eyes, fully prepared for sleep to take him once more.

It doesn't. And now that hes awake Patrick can actually hear something out of the ordinary. These walls were rather thin, Edward's constant complaining never let him forget, and a muffled clump of voices were now outside in the hall.

A very unusual occurrence, especially at four oh seven in the morning. Patrick pulls himself from his warm bed and pushes out into his living room, towards the front door. It doesn't really occur to him that this could be someone or something dangerous till its half open, but Patrick is already this far. He wants to see what's going on.

It's a group of people outside Bobby's door. One is knocking, loudly. Patrick steps forward confused, concerned, and taps one on the shoulder. When they turn and he sees some sort of important looking uniform on them a cold hand clutches at his heart.

"What's going on here?" Patrick asks, unsure if he wanted to know.

They look impatient and gesture towards Bobby's door. ''We're responding to an emergency call. Fellow in this apartment is hurt, we don't know how, and called 911. Any chance you can get us in? Protocol states we can't kick the door down just yet and the landlord is unresponsive.''

A response is expected, promptly too, but all Patrick can process is _Bobby! Hurt!_ It repeats in his head over and over again, much like Bobby's declaration of readiness expect all Patrick feels ready for is plotzing face first into the shitty hallway carpet.

The first responder turns, thinking they won't be getting anything out of Patrick but all at once he finds his feet again. He turns and _runs,_ but Bobby's house key is right where he left it, dangling on a hook by his door. It takes no more than a few seconds but for Patrick its eons.

He thrusts it into one of their hands. Much as Patrick wants to burst in there and gather his buddy into his arms he knows it won't help. These people, these _strangers_ are his only hope for Bobby and he hates it. 

They make a go at it professionally, not even wasting time with another word at Patrick and are in Bobby's apartment in seconds. Another door opens in tandem and Edward steps out. Patrick can see he's wearing fluffy pink slippers.

"What's-"

"Bobby's hurt."

The look he shoots Patrick is alarmed, not even bothering to be annoyed by the interruption. Edward gathers his robe tighter around his person and steps further into the hall. His hand finds itself on Patrick's shoulder and it's much more comforting then they both expected.

"It'll be okay." His neighbor is saying, but Patrick can hardly hear him over what's going on in Bobby's apartment. "They"ll take care of him."

It's not good enough for Patrick but he can't even complain, or curse, or stomp his feet because now they're pushing Bobby away and down the hall- _and his eyes are closed he doesn't even see Patrick standing there Bobby please!_

He's moving to follow but Edward's grip turns iron. Patrick gets pulled to face him, and Edward looks as serious as ever.

''You can't go tromping off after them like that. Get dressed. I'll drive you down to the hospital to see him.''

It isn't what he wants. Brings him farther from Bobby than he needs, but Edward's offer is still the most generous thing he's heard. 

"Sandy." He says, both confused and not at the bone deep desire to see her. Edward doesn't even bat an eye, ushering Patrick back towards his apartment.

"We'll pick her up too. Give her a call then meet me outside.'' Then, softer. ''It _will_ be okay Patrick. He'll be okay.''

Left with nothing else to do because really, is he going to argue with Edward right now, Patrick walks as stiffly as he could back into his home. Sandy is right after Bobby in his speed dial, and for how early it is she picks up on the third ring.

''Patrick?''

She sounds tired. Raspy, like she had gone to bed late. Probably had, if he thought about it. Sandy was no morning person, but she often stayed up later than most.

''Sandy...'' His voice nearly cracks, but Patrick musters through. ''Something's wrong with Bobby. I don't know what. Edward is driving me to the hospital to be with him. He said we could get you as well if you'd like.''

''I do.'' It's a rapid fire response, and she sounds much more awake then before. She tells Patrick she'll be ready in two shakes of a tail feather, and hangs up.

Her strange sayings don't exactly relax him, but Patrick isn't shaking as much as he gets dressed. He ends up throwing on the same thing he had worn the day previous. It's clean enough to get the job done. Edward hasn't come out of his own apartment yet so Patrick locks his door and goes to Bobby's. Gary is huddled under couch and he frowns.

The cat comes to him after a moment of whispering and nudges forcefully against Patrick's hand. Poor thing was probably terrified. Whatever was wrong with Bobby would of been seen by the cat, and Patrick didn't think he himself could of handled that. He takes another moment to calm the cat best he could, and sets out a new bowl of food as well. Bobby wouldn't want his little pet going hungry.

Patrick has a bag full of a few of Bobby's belongings when he finally leaves. Edwards there, looking more put together than Patrick felt. Still, Edward does have that odd look in his eyes. Its the same one Patrick saw a month back during Bobby's birthday, concern that he can't seem to quite deal with.

Neither of them talk during the drive excepting in Patrick giving directions to Sandy's. Even the radio is silent, something Patrick is grateful for. Sandy's home is a large one. Two stories, and many windows. She had told her boys she enjoyed the natural light and air flow. Patrick thought it suited her.

When they arrive all her lights are off, and Sandy is indeed waiting outside. She all but runs to Edwards car and throws herself inside. Her hair is different, done up in hastily applied scrunchies. There isn't a flower in it and Patrick's stomach flops at that.

''Hey boys.'' She says, a force to her voice.

Edward just grunts and pulls away once more. Patrick turns in his seat. He's desperate to be near her, suddenly wishing he had gone to sit in the back with her. Their hands clasp and it fits perfectly, like a key in a lock. She rubs a thumb across his knuckles and tries to smile.

''You doin' okay Pat?'' 

He's not. Doesn't need to say it but its nice that she asked. Sandy doesn't know Patrick as well as Bobby, was sure no one ever would, but she had picked up on his mannerisms quicker than most. Patrick can't say how much weight is off of his chest just by her being here. For a while Patrick had even been surprised by just how much Sandy had come to mean to him. They aren't exactly similar by any means, nearly from two different worlds but somehow they just _clicked._ It wasn't even the love of Bobby that brought them together, though it was a helpful factor. Patrick just could not imagine a life without Sandy in it.

Or Bobby, but if his mind wandered that way Patrick would be even more of a mess.

''I'm scared Sandy.'' It takes him a while to manage it out, but once he does Patrick isn't sure he can stop. ''They wouldn't tell me what was wrong with Bobby, he was just _laying_ there and he _wouldn't open his eyes-_ ''

Her hand tugs him roughly and when Patrick looks up there are tears in her eyes. Of course, he ends up thinking with a bitter shock. Sandy knew even less than him, yet she sat there looking at him in concern like he was the one possibly dying.

''Patrick I know you're scared. I am too. I feel just about as lost as a vegan at a Texan barbecue. But you gotta hold it together. Bobby's gonna need us. _I'm_ needin' you right now.''

It's said with such a fierce emotion that Patrick can not stop himself from staring at her. She had never been as expressive as Bobby was but right now Patrick can see just how close she is to falling apart. Bobby meant the moon and sky to Patrick, his friend that he would be willing to spend the rest of his days with. With Sandy it had always been harder to tell, but now Patrick knows with a finality that she loves- _is that the right word?-_ Bobby just as much as him.

''You're right.'' Sandy almost always is. ''We gotta be strong for Bobby. He doesn't like hospitals.''

She smiles now, and Patrick discovers he would do almost anything to keep her looking that way. He's reaching to wipe a tear from her face before he can stop himself and Sandy sucks in a breath, struck. Patrick goes still, thumb still on the warmth of her soft cheek.

''Ah- _hem_.''

A very familiar grunt snaps them both out of whatever the hell that was. Edward is tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. Something exasperated and fond is in his tone but he doesn't need to speak any further as Patrick and Sandy see where they are.

It's the hospital. The one Bobby is inside, having Neptune knows what done to him. Patrick wonders vaguely if he's awake yet. Much as he wants his little buddy to be up and active, able to talk to Patrick and prove he's okay, he also knows Bobby would probably be in less pain while unconscious. It's a somber thought that he does not like at all.

He and Sandy only break their hold on each other to exit the car, grabbing hands again as soon as they are able. Edward leads them inside. The building is nearly empty, just a few nurses in scrubs walking by and a couple in the far corner of the waiting room. Patrick feels like its too calm for the turmoil stirring inside of him at this moment.

''Why don't you two go sit? I'll speak to the front desk and see where Robert is, and what we can learn about him.'' Edward motions toward the sea of empty seats, still unusually kind. Patrick can't wait to tell Bobby about this. He's be delighted to hear about their stuffy neighbors compassionate side.

''Thanks Ed.''

''Thank you Edward.''

He nods, stiff, and Patrick doesn't let go of Sandy's hand as they go to sit. Even having their fill of the place they still end up rather close to the couple. Sandy thinks they look like a pair of characters. One's bearing an eye-patch, slouched low in his seat and sulking. The woman's in a comfortable looking wheelchair and has the tallest purple hair Sandy had ever seen. Bobby would _adore_ them.

They stay quiet, but close. Sandy is nearly half out of her chair to press herself against Patrick. It's as much for her sake as it is for him. He's warm, like always, but she finds herself hyper aware of it now. If Sandy wasn't so panicked for her little friend she was sure she could just fall asleep into his side then and there. Wasn't like they hadn't fallen asleep in the same bed before, thought it had always been the three of them. The missing weight of Bobby was as heavy as ever. 

Edward returns eventually and his face is pinched, but no more so than usual so Sandy's heart only just leaps into her throat. She wants to demand for answers but its hard to force her voice right now. Patrick, deeply longing to know anything beats her to it.

''Bobby?''

It's all he needs to say. Edward takes a seat and crosses his legs. The chairs look too small for him.

''Robert's lucky.'' He starts, and Sandy could strangle him for that ominous start. ''They couldn't be sure what was wrong with him at first, but now they know. It's appendicitis.''

Patrick bristles and Sandy puckers. That's, that's not super great. Having any sort of organ blockage is never good news. But, at least they know now. At least its something treatable. With what Patrick had seen of Bobby in his brief glimpse the boy had looked bad. To know something could be done about it was more than he could ask for in this situation. 

''What are they gonna do to him?''

Edward sighs at Patrick inquiry, but he has a feeling its more out of reflex then real annoyance. ''From what I understand they went right away to drain the abscess in him. After that they'll have to remove his appendix. It's nothing out of the ordinary.''

Patrick doesn't see anything ordinary with Bobby being here but its enough to have him slouching in his chair. Sandy does the same, and Patrick thinks she probably knows more about the procedure Bobby will be going through than Edward. Seeing her relax as well is just about the best thing that's happened to him all night.

''Well then.'' Edward stands. ''I'm going to call Eugene and inform him that his fry cook won't be coming to work for the next few week. _Ugh_. I am not looking forward to bedridden Robert.''

He pats them both on his shoulder in an almost paternal gesture as he walks away, leaving the two alone. Or, as alone as they could be with the couple not too far away. Patrick sighs, all tired and relived at once. Sandy sinks her head further into his shoulder.

''How bout that Patrick? He's gonna be okay.''

''Yeah...''

''Think they'll wake us when it's time to see Bobby?''

''They better.''

Sandy chuckles, and it's music to his ears.

\---

Neither Patrick nor Sandy could tell you how much time had passed since their arrival. Once knowing Bobby was going to be as okay as he could be their bodies had finally given them permission to rest and they had all but passed out next to each other. It takes Edward a good few shakes to stir them, and even then they don't look quite there.

''We can go see Bobby now.''

And _that_ has them standing. Their hands are still wrapped around each others, as if they had ever let go. Edward actually smiles at that, and it stays all the way to Bobby's door. He stops there, hand splayed on his chest.

''You two go in. Just be quiet. He's sleeping.''

Opening the door is a daunting task, and they have to do it together. Bobby isn't actually the first thing they see. There's an off white curtain, nearly ceiling to floor wrapped around half the room. Sandy, always the bravest one, pulls it aside.

And. And the room goes cold. Bobby's always been on the small side but he looks absolutely dwarfed in his hospital bed. His eyes are closed and all Patrick can think about is how unnaturally still he is. Even sleeping Bobby couldn't stay in one place. When he isn't twisting and turning in bed he's making some sort of pleasant sound, eyelids a flutter as whatever people like Bobby dreamed about dances in his mind. But right now Patrick can only just see the slightest rising and falling of his chest. There's something just so wrong about all of it.

Sandy puts a hand to her mouth but she's doing more than Patrick can, now letting go of him to go towards Bobby. She's brushes his hair back, hit with the urge to see his eyes.

''I don't like seeing him like this.'' She says, and Patrick can only nod. ''I ain't ever seen Bobby so still. I'm used to seein' him bouncin' off the walls.''

''He's gonna hate being on bed rest.''

Sandy sniffs, and Patrick finally joins her. They both knew Bobby was just a bit of a workaholic and keeping him in bed was going to be a feat in of itself.

''We'll stay with him while he heals then, Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid.''

''Yeah. I'll sit on him if I have to.''

She laughs wetly at that. ''That'll be counterproductive Pat. He's gonna be real sore for a while.''

''Well,'' Patrick takes Bobby's limp hand, and Sandy does the same with the other. They take seats on either side of the bed, both set to stay until their friend woke up. ''He'll be sore with us.''

''Like he could keep us away.''

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me in chapter one: there wont be much angst  
> Me now: so that was a lie
> 
> Listen every fic needs its sick chapter and this one is mine. Part two will be more of comfort I promise


	5. As The Sun Goes Down Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandy and Patrick grow closer. 
> 
> Bobby recovers and finds out a few not so new things about himself.

Bobby was quiet. Monitors blinked, the sun rose, and Bobby didn't stir. Patrick did the best he could to keep the silence from becoming too weighted, but it was hard to make conversation when his best buddy was just sitting there, pale and still. Sandy had informed him that Bobby would likely be out for a few hours more, anesthesia always a bit harder to overcome when you weigh ninety pounds soaking wet. He didn't quite get it, but he trusted Sandy more than his confusion. 

The first hour passed like that, Edward coming in once, looking at Bobby with a sort of upset frown, and informing them he was going home. It was around nine in the morning now, and _some_ people still needed their beauty sleep. He even went as far as touching the slumbering Bobby on the shoulder before he left, giving an unprompted promise to check on Gary went he got back.

Patrick and Sandy don't bother to hide the sappy looks on their faces as Edward scampers away, scowling like it would chase the real affection he had just shown from their memory. It's probably a good thing Bobby wasn't able to see that. That would start up the water works.

Once they're left alone again Sandy sighs. It's not as sad as it was earlier, but its still not quite _her._ She leans against Bobby's bed and squeezes his hand. There's such a contrast in their skin color but Patrick can't help but see how well they fit against each other. Like a puzzle piece. He wonders if it would be the same for him, to fit in like he belongs.

''I hate...'' She huffs, a stand of hair falling out of place and tries again. ''I hate thinkin' about him when this all started. Havin' to call for help all on his lonesome.''

Patrick understands that very well. Bobby was his best friend, and the thought of him suffering all alone just a few doors down is nearly enough to crack his resolve right there. He won't cry though, wouldn't put it past Bobby to sense it and wake up before he needs to.

''Bobby's stronger than he looks.'' Patrick ends up insisting, though he knows Sandy doesn't mean it like that. 

''I know that Pat. He's usually fit as a fiddle, and flexible as nothin' to boot. You should'a seen him at our last karate pratice.''

''You mean,'' he raised his voice an octave. '' _Ka-rah-tay_?''

She snorts at that, clapping a hand over her mouth to cease anything else that might threaten to escape. To anyone else it might seem like they were poking fun at Bobby and his little verbal quirk, but all Sandy can see in Patrick's eyes is a loving devotion.

''Say, I don't think you boys ever told me how y'all met.''

He hums, not suprised at the question itself, but more of its timing. Between the two of them Bobby had always been the better storyteller, and most of the time Sandy looked to him with inquiries like this. It never really upset him. He _liked_ watching Bobby get carried away while explaining something.

Sandy's still looking at him curiously so Patrick clears his throat, averting his eyes down to Bobby's face.

''You wouldn't rather hear it from Bobby? It'll sound boring coming from me.''

''You ain't boring Pat. I like hearin' you talk just as much as Bobby.''

And if that isn't the sweetest thing Patrick has heard in a long time. While he never really considered himself the shy type, Patrick much preferred to weigh his options before spouting off like Bobby does. It's one of the reasons so many people thought of him as an idiot back in school. He remembers teachers looking at him in disappointment, then as time went on, anger when he couldn't wrap his head around something they deemed _simple,_ and kept quiet because of it. Why talk, Patrick had reasoned, when you don't know the answer? It had sucked majorly, but Bobby had always been there to tell Patrick he was much smarter than anyone bothered to see.

Even so, Patrick had always been just a little bit afraid Sandy would grow tired of him. That the next fancy word she used would go over his head and that would be it. She'd cut ties with them then and there, and Bobby would cry and Patrick would too, then it would just be the two of them, alone, forever.

Not that long ago _just the two of them_ would be exactly what Patrick wanted. Now he isn't so sure. 

''Alright then.'' He caves, and Sandy looks at him so brightly that he couldn't regret it now if he tried. ''I was almost eight, and Bobby was five. I was having trouble in school, so I sat in on a few of the kindergarten classes. Bobby was the only one who tried to be my friend. We shared crayons and that was it.''

Patrick shrugs at the end, unable to embellish anything beyond that. Bobby would of made it more interesting. Told it in such a way you couldn't help but get caught up in, despite it just being a story about how two boys met. It's nothing noteworthy, excepting in being the best thing that had ever happened to Patrick of all time.

''Aww.'' Sandy coos, but it's not demeaning or chock full of pity. Instead she looks warmed by what he had said, a hand pressed against her chest. ''That's...not surprising actually. Our Bobby isn't shy when it comes to makin' friends, is he?''

The _our_ gets Patrick, but its a pleasant thing. It fits, even if he thinks they're Bobby's more than anything else. He reaches across Bobby and Sandy meets him almost immediately. Their fingers intertwined, and Patrick thinks they fit together just fine. 

\---

Bobby feels strange. 

Everything is muffled, not really hurting, but it seems like part of him just isn't there. It takes him a few tries to open his eyes, and when he does its to a ceiling of white squares. Now, Bobby isn't quite there at the moment, but he knows that's not normal. Things would be so much easier if he could just remember where he is, and why.

His nose scrunches up as Bobby tries to think. The cotton filling his mind is slowly pouring out, but he can't reach the answer that is just there out of reach. He wiggles his fingers and something bursts into life in response.

''Bobby!'' Goes a voice, and he hates that it takes him a moment to recognize it. Bobby lifts his head high as he can and looks at the blur that is slowly coming to form his best friend.

'' _Patrick_?''

He doesn't even wince at Bobby's harsh voice, cracking with misuse. Patrick looks absolutely elated, but now Bobby can see the bags under his eyes, and the way his hair has none of its usual playful bounce. Bobby attempts to sit up, but an electric stitch in his side tells him that's an awful idea. He's wincing, and Patrick is helping him lay back down into a position that isn't agony.

''Take it easy buddy.'' Patrick says, near to fretting at Bobby's side. Any other time it would be cute, but hes having a hard enough time breathing, let alone focusing on the way Patrick looking at him through his bangs. ''You had your appendix removed.''

Oh. That explains pretty much everything. Now that Bobby's settled once more, Patrick's warm hand against his shoulder keeping him grounded, he's starting to remember. The pain, too early in the morning, and Bobby unable to do anything other lay there and feel it. His chest picks up in panic when this comes back to him, but then Patrick is there, like always, taking him in a gentle hold.

Bobby's too exhausted to go any further and he slumps, face half buried in Patrick's side. There's a hand running through his hair, completely ignoring the sweaty build up that has gathered there. He just breaths until the weight of the situation settles enough for Patrick to let him go. Bobby sighs, wincing at the soreness at his side.

''Have you- have you been here the whole time Pat?''

''Of course!'' Patrick would look offended if he could manage any sort of negative emotion towards Bobby. ''Me and Sandy have!''

Bobby makes that tiny noise of confusion he does whenever he isn't quite caught up yet, and casts his gaze around the room. When he can't see anyone else he lips turn downward, and the look doesn't suit Bobby.

''She went to get coffee. She'll be back soon buddy. I should go get the doctor.''

An arm snaps out, and Bobby is suddenly holding onto Patrick with a strength he didn't think was possible at this time. Doctors are all good and fine but he can't stomach the idea of being left alone in this room. It's not really like the position he was in hours ago, torn up in a painful panic away in his room. Bobby really isn't even hurting much anymore, too numb for that, but he just _can't_ be alone right now.

He's a step away from begging but Patrick understands in just a second. In a blink of an eye Patrick is sitting back down by his bed, balanced on the edge so he can be as close to Bobby as possible. And Bobby doesn't like to be so needy, knows its a trait many have sneered at, but his best friend has never minded. Patrick would be Bobby's own personal body pillow if he asked.

''Please don't go.'' He wheezes out, and Patrick is ready to live the rest of his days here in this uncomfortable hospital chair if that's what Bobby needs.

His fingers go to run across Bobby's scalp again, and it has his friend settling back down somewhat. Bobby still isn't feeling like himself, and on the rare occasions he did get sick or injured it always ended with a mess of touch starved limbs. Patrick sighs, and hopes Sandy would get back soon.

It takes ten minutes, but eventually Sandy walks through the door. She's got two steaming styrofoam cups in her hands, and its only her instincts that keeps her from dropping them when she sees Bobby not only awake, but half in Patrick's lap. One impressive feat of dexterity later and the cups are set aside, Sandy nearly leaping across the room to Bobby's side. He had dozed somewhat, stuttering into an alertness the moment Sandy touched his arm.

''Sandy?''

She smiled when he said her name, happy that it sounded heavy with sleep rather than pain. Patrick shifts, letting her get closer on the bed. They all move slow, hyper-aware of Bobby's injuries but the desire to be close is too strong. Bobby is down lower, braced between Sandy's side and Patrick's arm. It's the most comfortable all three of them have been in hours, and the thought of breaking this moment is like a shot to the heart.

At some point, however, they know it has to end. Bobby's awake, and staying awake, and that means he needs to get checked out. Sandy, figuring she's due her own stretch of Bobby time nudges Patrick with her elbow, careful not to jostle the pale boy squished between them. 

''Pat, can you go get the doctor? I'll stay with Bobby.''

He doesn't look to happy at the prospect of leaving Bobby, but nods anyway. It sends a shot of wamrth straight to Sandy's heart that Patrick trusts her enough to be left alone with Bobby. Not that she would dream of doing anything to hurt him, but these past few months Sandy could never really shake the feeling of being a third wheel. Nothing her boys did ever made her think this, but the little voice in her head that screamed _'you don't belong!'_ could come at her with a passion.

It would come when Bobby laughed at some joke she didn't quite get the meaning of. In the way Patrick glowed when talking about the childhood home that might as well be his too. Sandy hasn't even met Bobby's parents yet, for all she's heard of them, but Patrick speaks like they've practically adopted him. And Sandy _wants_ that. Maybe not the parents, her own are great, but wants that feeling of belonging in Patrick and Bobby's lives.

Yet, Patrick is looking at her like she already _does._ And Bobby just happily nestles into her side, like the fact Patrick leaving doesn't bother him since Sandy was staying. It leaves a lump in her throat and she has to blink rapidly to keep her eyes clear.

Patrick goes for a nurse only after looking them both up and down in concern. Sandy makes her grip around Bobby more protective, ready to let him continue dozing, but he's shifting to get a better look at her. Bobby looks upset and Sandy is suddenly regretting her insistence at Patrick being the one to go. She opens her mouth to apologize but Bobby is moving, touching her face with two fingers.

''You don't have a flower in your hair.'' Bobby says, and he sounds so put out at that. ''Did you and Pat really stay here with me the whole time?''

For all the ways her mind is swirling Sandy doesn't lend towards hesitation at that. She nods, taking the hand Bobby had used in hers. ''Of course we did silly. You'd have to force us outta here.''

He sniffs, but is doesn't sound all that sad so Sandy counts this as a success. If anything Bobby looks confused, like he didn't expect them to come, let alone stay the entire time. She wants to huff at that. Because of course, Bobby is so blind to the fact his friends love him more than anything. Sometimes she think he focuses so much of his energy insuring people around him feel wanted and liked that Bobby just forgets about his own worth.

She's shake him, if he weren't bedridden. Instead Sandy cups his cheeks, guiding him to look at her. He complies, if wanting to just understand what she was doing.

''We _love_ you Bobby.'' She insists, so steady and real that he can't do anything other than believe it with all his heart.

And for how true it is Bobby just can't wrap his mind around the full meaning behind what Sandy had said. Bobby was, at his very core, an affectionate person. For love, such a word so important, he uses it often as he's able. Bobby would tell Gary he loved him, tell Edward, who's just huff in reply. Even Mr. Krabbe and Pearl, who took to it with different levels of flustered cheeks would hear it at least once a week. It wouldn't be a stretch to say Bobby _loved love._

And he does love Patrick and Sandy, except now he's thinking he might actually _Love_ Patrick and Sandy. Capital L, full stop and unlike anything else he's ever felt. He can't even say for sure if its real, with how woozy he currently feels. Doesn't know if he's suddenly realized his undying Love for his two best friends, or if his health scare is just making him overly sappy. Bobby's even had crushes before, (who didn't crush on early eighties Mermaid Man) but this is so much more that he can't really compare it.

Most of the time when he feels this lost Bobby would go to Sandy or Patrick for advice, but that is, obviously, out of the question. He feels lightheaded, and sore, and so tried that all he wants to do is forget this terrifying rabbit hole and take a nap. Sandy is still watching him, but her eyes are soft and fond so Bobby thinks he's safe to not respond.

He smiles at her, and it only feels the slightest bit fake.

They settle into a comfortable silence after that and Bobby is immensely grateful. He's sure if Sandy did anything else cute or lovely that he'd snap then and there, confessing feelings that may or may not be the product of his fever. Bobby might be able to play it off as a joke, but he'd rather not take that risk.

Patrick, and the Doctor be extension return just soon enough for Bobby's heart to settle. He reaches for Patrick without thinking, and his is almost bounding across the room to get to him. The Doctor raises an eyebrow as the three cram into Bobby's bed, but a quick glare from Sandy keeps her from saying anything against it. She gets started explaining to Bobby what had happened to him, and how he needed to recover. He's just a little bit distracted by the two hands in his, but he's sure Sandy has already memorized whatever he needed to know.

The Doctor leaves with the fact Bobby is free to go, and a warning to keep it easy for the next few weeks. _That_ sits just as uncomfortably as the Love thing with Bobby. Its not that he's a workaholic, cause he's _not,_ but Bobby just hates the idea of sitting useless at home. Not to mention poor Mr. Krabbe will have to man the grill in his absence. He's starting to think up excuses to return to work early when Sandy is flicking him in the ear.

''Hey, Mister Porter.'' She sounds amused, but there's no room for argument in her voice. ''Don't even think bout skippin' out on your healin' time. Patrick and I will be stayin' with you till you're back on your feet.''

''But-''

''No buts, buddy.'' Interrupted Patrick, that traitor.

Bobby pouts, but really he's overjoyed that Patrick and Sandy have pretty much invited themselves over. Not only will it give him time to decipher these new feelings, but Bobby really does not want to be alone right now. It'll be a tight fit, and Bobby will probably need the bed to himself for the first week or so. He's a bit sad thinking of them having to sleep on the couch or floor, but he might be able to convince Patrick to drag his mattress over. It's big enough for all three of them, and maybe Bobby can join them on it when his wound isn't so sore and fresh.

''Fine.'' He gives in, but not without a weak smile. ''But you two can't keep me in bed the whole time. Eventually I'll be free.''

They smile, and Bobby's stomach flips. It's going to be a _long_ couple of weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *narrator voice* ah, young love
> 
> Hey! We're finally getting the first maybe realization of love! Bobby's still got some things to work out, but hey, nothing can go any wronger right?
> 
> Remember y'all are free to leave any prompts you'd like to see in the comments, and I'll do my best to get to them!


	6. Life Is Sweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Mermaid Man marathon, two third of a heart to heart, and everything in between.

It's with a heavy heart that Bobby decides that he is, officially and henceforth, deceased. He had a good twenty one years all things considered. More than some got at least. He can't say he had a bad run, exactly, but even so...

Who knew falling in capital L Love with his two best friends would be the end of young Robert Porter.

The two of which he is certain are going to be saddled with manslaughter are currently making an absolute mess in his kitchen. Patrick had wanted popcorn to go with their day, the special spiced kind he often made, but since Bobby was still currently under bed arrest, he had been forbidden from even touching the oven. They had at least granted him enough mercy to bring him to the couch, but Bobby was starting to think it was torture more than anything. He could smell from here they were using too much lemon pepper.

Maybe watching the monstrosity they were making would kill him before the whole Love thing got to him.

''I really think I could handle this you guys.'' Bobby insists, once more, from his pillowed perch. Sandy and Patrick had practically buried him in an attempt at comfort. It was as sweet as it was overbearing.

''No sir!'' Sandy shot back, inspecting Bobby's shaker of paprika like it had secrets to tell. ''No strenuous activities for another week, you know that!''

It's a far cry to Bobby, thinking standing at his counter and shaking a few spices into a bowl a strenuous thing, but he can't really argue. One week had already passed since his unprompted hospital visit and while he was feeling much better, the tightness in his abdomen still pulled painfully if he so much as turned the wrong way. For Bobby, who almost lived to bounce around the walls, it was a very unpleasant experience. 

Still, he did have to admit it was much easier getting through it with Sandy and Patrick. Even if what they were doing in his kitchen would make his hair go grey.

After a while longer they returned to the living room triumphant, if a bit winded looking. Sandy passed the bowl to Bobby and made herself comfortable by his left side, taking extra care not to jostle him, but still finding a way to touch. Patrick flopped down on his right, but it was a move so practiced that the other two hardly felt it.

The cook in him wanted to grimace as he looked down at the bowl, but the side of him that was close to swooning at the gesture won out. Food was a language of love for Bobby, wither that was receiving for giving. And while more often than not Bobby was the one behind the stove, Patrick had cooked for him once or twice. It was usually boxed recipes, or something that involved dumping ingredients in a pan and waiting, but Bobby appreciated them all the same.

Even Sandy had offered them tea the day they all officially met, and willingly split her gift of cookies with the two of them. That had put her in Bobby and Patrick's good graces tenfold.

Declarations, Bobby would think, but only of lowercase love. Just as friends, or maybe at best, family. Sandy and Patrick were amazing, great, _astounding_ , some other word Bobby couldn't think of. He was glad to have their love, even if it wasn't what he really wanted. _Was it what he wanted? Bobby's heart lurched._ He just needed to survive this bought of unrequited, confusing affection until it settled into his new normalcy. 

Which, as Patrick causally threw an arm across his back, Bobby knew was going to be _much_ harder than he hoped.

He shifted, but not away, as that would have them suspicious, just feeling the need to not be still. Patrick and Sandy began to eat their little snack, and Bobby followed suit after a moment. It honestly wasn't as bad as he expected. Bit too much of everything. Story of Bobby's life.

''What'cha boys think bout watchin' a movie or somethin'?'' 

''Oh!'' Said Patrick. ''The Mermaid Man Marathon comes on in a few minutes!''

Sandy chuckled, and Bobby tried very hard not to think about the sheen the popcorn left on her fingers. She didn't look too surprised as Patrick's choice, but neither was Bobby. It was their all time favorite show and Sandy had taken to it quite well when they first showed it to her months ago. Her love for the show would never really match theirs, but she liked it well enough.

''Right.'' She said. ''Bobby? Up to you partner.''

Well, even a Bobby wracked with Love guilt would never say no to a Mermaid Man Marathon. The show didn't actually have much of a following, old as it was, but Bobby had been lucky enough to stumble upon a channel that often streamed older television. He reached for the remote, which Patrick happily offered to him so he wouldn't have to stretch further. The TV flickered from whatever documentary Bobby hadn't been paying attention to, to the nostalgic black and white opening of his childhood heroes.

Patrick burst out along with the theme song, voice taking the same deep rumble it did when he really tried to sing. Sandy threw her head back and attempted to join him, stumbling over every few word she had yet to memorize. Bobby was smiling, but kept his mouth shut. If he tried to sing along he feared something he wasn't ready - _he'd never be ready-_ to confess would come out instead.

The music slowed, eventually giving way to the opening scene. It came as a great distraction for Bobby, who was acutely aware of the people pressing into his sides. Between the popcorn and the show they remained mostly quiet, except for the boisterous laughs that even Sandy couldn't avoid.

It was such a warm, and domestic moment that Bobby wasn't really too surprised when his eyes started to feel heavy. He had been sleeping a lot lately. Much more than normal, at least. Sandy told him it was a byproduct of the exhaustion his body went through. In some ways Bobby preferred being awake and in pain, rather than sleeping when there was stuff he could be doing. But even so, he couldn't say a quick nap between his two favorite people was really that bad.

His eyes shut, and Bobby pillowed further into Patrick makeshift embrace. The sound of the TV wasn't quite so loud to be distracting, and he had fallen asleep to Mermaid Man enough for it to be no real problem.

Sandy, as she often did, noticed it first. She glanced across to Bobby in habit, softening into a warm pile of mush at the sight of him. He looked peaceful curled up against Patrick, legs tangled in hers and lips parted slightly as he breathed. Compared to a week ago when she had seen him small and pale in that hospital bed, it was quite literally a wonder to look at.

Not that she often watched Bobby sleep. That would be weird, and Sandy was most definitely- well, she _was_ weird. But Sandy likes to think it was the best kind of weird.

''Patrick.'' She whispered. ''Don't move.''

He turned his head to look at her with a raised eyebrow, and yeah, okay, maybe telling Patrick not to move at the moment was sort of redundant, so sue her. She just shrugged a shoulder, and pointed down at their sleeping companion.

''Aww.'' Patrick cooed, then immediately quieter. ''He's gonna miss the show.''

''He's seen it about a thousand times Pat. Bobby could probably quote it in his sleep.''

Patrick was still for a moment as he thought, then nodded. He had actually heard Bobby talk in his sleep before, so what Sandy said was pretty believable. Besides, Patrick didn't think he had it in him to try and wake Bobby. Not when he looked so cute.

''Guess we can't move.'' He said, not looking very put out at the idea. In fact, Sandy thought he looked almost smug sitting there with Bobby curved into his side.

_They really are two peas in a pod..._

Sandy frowned despite herself, pressing her knuckles together. Bobby and Patrick were about as natural as apple and pie, and it was times like these that nagging doubt reared its ugly head. Telling her she was over staying her welcome, that Bobby and Patrick really only needed each other.

Just like that day in the hospital Patrick notices her little moment of doubt- _and Sandy is again struck with just how much Patrick does notice-_ and matches her frown. He nudged her with his arm, taking her attention just like that.

''You okay Sandy?''

And really, she wants to lie. To tell Patrick she was fine, that Bobby was the one they needed to be worrying about. But looking at the two of them, at her boys who are just about as cute as a newborn calf, she suddenly just _can't._

Sandy tosses her hands up, but leaves her reaction to that. Even if shes going to talk to Patrick about this, she's not about to wake Bobby up for it.

''I'm just- I'm wonderin' what my place here is.''

''What?'' Patrick's keeping his voice low too for Bobby's sake, but he's pressing his lips together like it's hard to do. ''You mean here at Bobby's?''

''No Patrick, I mean _here.''_ She points between Bobby and Patrick, who has the start of realization dawning on his face. ''You and Bobby have always been together. Ain't I just gonna screw that up? I've never really had a best friend before, maybe Randy, but-''

Patrick silences her by putting his actual hand across her mouth and she goes still. She wants to glare, maybe even lunge at him and do _something,_ but Bobby is still too damn achingly adorable to wake up. Sandy makes a mental note to get revenge for this later, when Patrick isn't using a human body shield, but for now she relents. There's a look on Patrick's face that she doesn't often see. It makes her stomach do a strange twist.

Product of the popcorn, surely. Maybe they should of let Bobby handle it.

''Do you not want to be here?'' Patrick ends up asking. It's not at all what she expected him to say and she hesitates just long enough for Patrick deflate where he sits.

''No!'' Sandy says at the loudest quiet tone she could muster. Then, again with a wince, ''I mean, I _want_ to stay. Bikini Bottom didn't feel like home till y'all came stumblin' into my life. I don't wanna go, I'm just worried I ain't what y'all need.''

''That's...that's not...''

Patrick huffs, chest expanding wide enough that Bobby rises with it, but doesn't wake. It's times like these he wishes his buddy would spring up, to tell him what he needed to say to get Sandy smiling again. But Bobby's hurt and needs his rest, so Patrick has to handle it best he can, all while keeping quiet enough so his friend won't wake. Patrick is _not_ a multitask in any shape or form, but what else can he do but _try?_

''I'm worried I'm not smart enough for you Sandy.'' Is what he winds up saying. The self deprecation is maybe not the best way to go about it, but Patrick is tired, and Sandy is sad, and Bobby is hurt. Finding some sort of common ground is all he can grasp at. 

Sandy's mouth is hanging open now that he's taken his hand away. Normally Patrick would find humor in seeing her speechless at something he had said, but right now all he's hoping is that he didn't just ruin everything.

''What are you talkin' about Patrick? Not smart enough for me? That ain't true. Sides, it don't matter to me how smart either of you are. You boys are my friends.''

It's hard to believe, even with her saying it, but Patrick is starting to think one day he could have it be true. He smiles still, nodding his head. If Patrick can't put it into words, then Sandy just did.

''Well then.'' He declares. ''If it doesn't matter how smart I am, then it doesn't matter when Bobby and I met you. We _do_ need you Sandy. You belong with us as long as you want to. Bobby would say the same if he was awake.''

She can feel a prickle at her eyes but forces it away. Nice moment or not she won't start crying again. Things haven't developed that far. But she does finally smile again, and Patrick could cheer for it. He thinks that maybe this conversation isn't quite over yet, but they both seem to agree Bobby deserves to be conscious for it.

''Ain't you the sweetest.'' Sandy says, and for now they leave it at that.

\---

Bobby wakes up halfway through the third episode. He breaths heavily through his nose, a whistle of noise escaping. It takes him a few moments to completely come back, and even still he blinks sluggishly.

''Sorry.'' He said, and Patrick chuffed affectionately. ''I miss the show?''

''Only a bit of it buddy. We can rewind if you'd like?''

Bobby took a beat to consider it then shook his head. The best part of this was having Sandy and Patrick by his side, and he didn't want to do anything to scare that away. It's starting to get dark out as well, and Bobby begins to think its time for dinner. He's itching to get back behind the stove. So much so that it nearly feels like Bobby's lost a limb.

''M'hungry.'' Bobby ventures, and Sandy goes to get up, likely to fetch him something. He grabs her by the hand, and while any time she could easily break away, Bobby's fingers around her wrist are warm and pleasant. They root her to the spot. ''Let me help!''

''Bobby, you know-''

''I _know,_ '' he says, ''But between the three of us in the kitchen, I'd be fine. You guys can handle the heavy lifting. I just _need_ to see my kitchen again.''

Patrick is pointedly looking at Sandy. He knows just once glance at Bobby's face, w _ide, wide, blue eyes,_ he'd crumble and give in. She doesn't think its quite fair they're pinning this decision on her. Her rationality could be a curse at times. It would be a lot easier if Bobby hadn't wormed his way into her heart and settled down to stay. And would he _please_ stop looking at her like some kinda kicked animal?

''Alright.'' She grumbles, but stops Bobby's cheer before it can come with a finger wag. ''But you've gotta pick somethin' simple. And don't even think 'bout choppin' anythin'. You stand in the kitchen and direct us.''

Bobby smiles, slow and amazed, not realizing the way it captures his two friends and won't let go. He stands, notably without a wince, and hugs Sandy. Which is, by far, nor fair in the slightest. Patrick gives her a look, a shrug of w _hat can you do?,_ and joins them. His arms are long enough to stretch all the way around Bobby and meet the small of her back. It burns, not painful, but a jolting reminder of the conversation they had two Mermaid Man episodes ago. 

She cleared her throat. It doesn't help, and her boys just pull away from her. Bobby's still smiling at least. Sandy was rather confidante she could rope a buckin' bronco with one arm behind her back as long as Bobby kept smiling at her.

''Team of Tres!'' Bobby is saying, pulling them towards the kitchen with the excitement of a child on Christmas day. ''To the top!''

''Carefully.''

''Team of Tres, _carefully,_ to the top!''

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I saw the Musical!!!! It came down to Texas on tour. Y'all,,,,,it was so good. Other than The Hunchback of Notre Dame, it is my absolute favorite musical. I'll always love the original cast (Ethan Slater is my man) but Lorenzo Pugliese was amazing. Just a spunky dude with so much upper core strength! I would definitely see it again if it ever comes back down here. I could ramble on and on about it if given the chance.


	7. Babysitters Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobby and Pearl have a whale of a time.

Hindsight was 20/20, and Bobby was not wearing his glasses. His mother would always tell him to slow down, to take a deep breath and _think for once, boy._ All out of love, of course, but Bobby could never take it easy, even if he wanted to. It was this little quirk, along with his infuriating inability to say no to any figure of authority, that Bobby found himself in a very strange predicament. 

Mr. Krabbe had bluntly, not so much demanded but firmly insisted, that he do one little favor for his boss. A _paid_ day off was promised in return, and while Bobby really did like working and days off weren't usually his style, that itself was surprising enough that he agreed without knowing all the details. It would be nice to have an extra day to spend with Sandy and Patrick. Give him more time to sort his feelings out and stop pining. 

He _really_ should of waited for Mr. Krabbe to tell him everything.

The thing was, Bobby did like Pearl. She was a sweet girl. Easily excited, and not afraid to come say hi to the Krusty Krews new fry cook on his first day. Bobby could see them getting along swell as the years went by.

But _babysitting_ was something else entirely. Bobby had always been an only child ( _and Patrick didn't count, couldn't count),_ and save Stanley, who was just a year his junior, all of his cousins had been older. He never really had a chance to interact with someone half his age enough for confidence at his ability to care for her to shine through. It was a blow that had him regretting turning down those babysitting gigs as a teenager in favor of fast food offers. 

Kids did like him, at least. He got on great with the child patrons that filtered in and out of The Krusty Krab. Could make even the most sullen toddler laugh. If it had been just a few hours of watching Pearl Bobby would even say it would be easy. But Mr. K had been insistent. Bobby was to be taking Pearl for a day and night while her father went out and did _something_ with an old friend. He hadn't given Bobby many details, and really, he didn't want to know.

It. Was. Terrifying. Sweet, that his boss trusted him enough to care for his daughter, but also utterly petrifying for that in of itself. If something happened, or Pearl came out of this hating him, it would mean the end of his career. He had no doubts Mr. Krabbe would fire him if a single hair was out of place on Pearl's head.

Even Patrick and Sandy, who both had siblings themselves couldn't help him. Sandy had some sort of scientific convention to attend that could keep her out of town for a weekend. Bobby didn't pretend to understand half of what it was about, but she seemed excited. And poor Patrick had a double set of the graveyard shift at the museum. When he actually could be home he's be running on no sleep, and Bobby wasn't about to overexert Patrick with his own problems.

Neptune, was his house even childproof? He had nothing that stood out as overly bad. No drugs, and the barest hints of alcohol that was stored up high enough that Bobby himself needed assistance to teach them. Bobby also had knives, all for cooking, but kept sharp and clean. Maybe he could just say the kitchen was off limits...

What did eleven year old girls even like? Bobby would be the first to admit he was childish, and while he didn't really believe the whole _pink for girls blue for boys_ thing, most of his hobbies didn't really seem that fitting for a preteen like her. Pearl _did_ like pink, but so did Bobby. Yellow just happened to be his favorite color.

In the end he settled for raiding the Barg'N-Mart for any preteen targeted board games, and an assortment of Disney movies he didn't already own. The snacks he'd make himself. No matter how scared he was, Bobby was not going to let his boss's kid have nothing but barnacle chips and soda during her stay. He just hoped she wasn't a picky eater.

It was two o'clock on the dot, and Bobby was so so grateful they were on time, when Mr. Krabbe and Pearl arrived. He took a deep breath, skittered Gary away and went to answer the door.

Mr. K looked thoroughly unimpressed, but unsurprised once he got a glance into Bobby's apartment. He chuckled deep in his throat and placed a hand atop of Pearl's curls of hair.

''This place really suits you lad. It's like one of your vests exploded over the walls. All them bright colors and patterns.''

''Uh...Thank you sir?''

''Alright!'' He clapped and Bobby only just hid his jump. Pearl matched her fathers less than impressed look. ''Time for you to take my Pearlie. You know the rules boy.''

He did. Quite well actually. Bobby liked lists, and the structure they could bring to unknown things. What were rules but a list to follow?

''You betcha Mr. Krabbe! I prepared all sorts of stuff for Pearl and I to do.'' Since he didn't have to bend down to look Pearl in the eyes Bobby just grinned, and waved her in. Her mouth was a thin line, but it wasn't a frown so Bobby didn't see it as a loss. _Yet._

''Ain't that sweet.'' Mr. Krabbe said. He pressed a quick kiss against Pearl's temple, an act of fatherly affectation that had Bobby fighting a happy high hum. On his best days Mr. Krabbe was loudly prideful, and only slightly rude. Seeing him so open with his daughter made Bobby happy. It made him think of his own parents and the way they would interact. Which, he _really_ needed to call soon. It had been over a week since their last chat.

''Daddy it's time for you to go! Bobby and I have this!'' Pearl snapped, loud for being so young, and shooed her dad away. So, maybe _not_ exactly like Bobby and his parents.

''You can count on us Mr. K!'' He added, winking for good measure. ''We'll see you tomorrow!''

In the end Mr. Krabbe scampers away at Pearls instance, and suddenly she and Bobby are left alone. For as much as he's talked to Pearl in his months of employment, the realization this is their first time alone is very apparent. Usually Mr. K, or even the adorably dubbed _Uncle_ Edward would be with them.

Bobby shuts the door and hoped that Pearl can't sense his apprehension. Kids could smell fear.

''So, Bobby.'' She says, arms crossed and with the tone of a businessman's child. ''I know Daddy tricked you into watching me. Usually Uncle Eddie or Aunt Karen do it.''

He isn't sure who Karen is, but Bobby winces sympathetically at Edward's name. The poor man had been struck with some sort of fever, hence Mr. Krabbe's need to go to Bobby for a favor. Bobby had brought him some soup a few hours ago. Once Pearl was sleeping he'd have to go check on his neighbor once more.

''Well I don't mind watching you Pearl! Usually I spend my free time with Patrick and Sandy, but they're busy too.''

She shoots him a curious look. Pearl had met both of his friends once or twice, whenever they came to visit him at work. It was cute seeing Pearl pestering Sandy over her hair, and how much she loved it.

Pearl kept looking at him, and Bobby was starting to fidget so he rubbed his hands together. ''So! What should we do now? You hungry?''

''Nope.''

''Thirsty?''

''Nuh uh.''

''Um, bored?''

A shrug. Ah, how Bobby missed the child's art of inclusiveness. Now he had to do boring adult things like shopping (scratch that he liked shopping), or, or, or.... _taxes._ No one liked taxes.

''I got board games.'' He says at last. ''You can pick.''

She hummed high pitched, likely weighting her options. Honestly, Bobby wouldn't mind if she wanted to do something more lax for a while, like watch TV. Or maybe take Gary for a walk. Kids always found it funny to see a cat on a leash.

''Yeah okay. We can do that.'' Pearl let her bag of belongings slum from her shoulders to the floor, and a puff of pink glitter scattered out across his threshold. It took a great deal of strength for Bobby not to grab his special heavy duty vacuum then and there. He liked glitter a fair deal, thought it looked good in Sandy's eye shadow, but Neptune was it hard to get out of a carpet. 

He ignores it, has Pearl sit on the couch, and begins to dig through the mountain of board games he now owned.

''Shoots and ladders?''

''Ugh, boring.''

''Monopoly?''

''Daddy doesn't like that game. He thinks the fake money is insulting.''

Okay...Bobby doesn't get that, but fighting it would be too much work. He shrugs and goes to the next thing. It's a large hot pink box with pictures of young teens that were clearly taken back in the nineties. He remembers this one costing only a dollar. Mr. K would be proud at that discount.

''This says, The Jewled Princess?''

Pearl scoots closer and flexes her fingers to the box. He gets her meaning and hands it over. Her eyes judge it harshly, reading the tiny text closely. It's sort of intriguing to watch actually. When Bobby was Pearls age he didn't really play many board games. Mostly he and Patrick ran around outside doing whatever they set their minds on. 

That was the power of _imagination._

After whatever test Pearl was concocting ended she nodded, a jerk of her chin. ''This looks okay. We can play it.''

Bobby grins, pops the top of the box off and begins to read the rules. He turns his voice am octave deep for _f_ _lavor._

''How to Play: Youngest Player goes first~''

\---

An hour later Bobby is covered nearly head to toe in plastic jewelry, a spread of cards gather around them. At first he had been fine with allowing Pearl to win on purpose, but now he was getting thoroughly trashed for real. She had all the nice pieces in her lap, fake rubies and sapphires on her fingers, and plastic pearls (ha, irony) dangling from her ears. The good, not cheap fake jewelry.

Leaning back she cackled gleefully and Bobby huffed, rolling his eyes affectionately. He did kind of want to win now, but Pearl looked so happy that he couldn't fault her steak of luck. 

Which, it was absolutely luck. Bobby was going to _school_ Patrick and Sandy at this game when his day off came.

''Alright.'' He wines, adding a theatrical edge to his voice. ''You win Pearl.''

She tossed the cards into the air with a cheer. They flutter at her side, and Bobby finds he isn't itching to clean it up. Not when she looked so elated. He stands, and his knees pop. Only an hour in and Pearl is making him feel old.

''I'm pretty hungry after that thrashing. How about you? Ready for some grub Pearl the girl?''

'Maybe...'' She blinks up at him, still not taking the fake jewelry off. ''Its not gonna be a burger is it? You make those _all_ the time.''

Bobby isn't quite sure if he's supposed to be offended by that. Though, Pearl probably lived and breathed Krabby Patties because of her father. Shocking as it was, Bobby supposed she was at the point of being tired of them.

''Nah. I made soup for Edward earlier, so we could heat some of that up. Or we could make something!''

Pearl made an impressive face of displeasure, twisted and way more dramatic than necessary. ''Ew. Old person soup? No thank you.''

''Well, I guess we're making something then! How about spaghetti and meatballs?''

''I guess that's fine.''

Not as enthusiastic as Bobby would of liked, but he'd take it. Pearl followed him into the kitchen, bouncing to sit on one of his counters. Okay then, Bobby would be cooking solo. Not that he really minded. It had become clear since meeting Pearl she wasn't that into the whole food business, and all it entailed.

''You gonna be my supervisor Pearl? Just like your dad?''

''Ugh, Bobby.'' She groaned, and tossed her head back. One of the fake earrings fell off. ''Don't compare me to Daddy. The Krusty Krab is boring.''

It's not really his place to say, but Bobby can't help it. He shuts the fridge, setting aside the meat he had thawed earlier just in case. ''You don't like The Krusty Krab? Your dad is always talking about how he's gonna pass it down to you when you're older.''

Pearl only sunk lower. She tugged the other earring off with an upset jerk. ''Don't remind me. Daddy won't listen to me when I tell him I don't wanna own some crummy restaurant. That's so not cool.''

He shakes away the urge to be offended on behalf of his favorite restaurant and gets to work prepping the meal before him. Its hard to wrap his mind around it, Pearl's obvious desire to get away from Bikini Bottom when she's older. For Bobby, this town was everything he could ever want. It had his dream job, dream home, and his best friends in the whole wide world.

But for Pearl, now so downtrodden and glum, he knows that isn't what she wants. Not everyone was happy with the simple pleasures in life.

''Hey,'' he says, soft. ''Your dad loves you a lot, even more than The Krusty Krab. He won't force you into anything.''

Her head snaps up, and she stares him dead in the eyes. For someone so young hes constantly surprised by her mature intensity that comes and goes.

''But he worked so hard to get The Krusty Krab where it is now. If he retires and _I_ don't take it, what'll happen? He won't sell it to some random person.''

_Me._ Bobby thinks. Urges the universe to spin towards his desire. _He could give it to me._

''I dunno.'' Bobby says instead, because hes not about to drop _that_ mess on Pearl. Maybe when she's older, and they could convince Mr. Krabbe's together that he was a good choice to take the responsibility of a restaurant on. ''But I don't think he's very close to retirement any time soon. Do you?''

She shakes her head, and the lack of hesitation makes Bobby think shes feeling a bit better.

''Or maybe he'll give it to Edward.''

With that she laughs, and her eyes clear up enough that Bobby considers her justly cheered up. It _was_ funny after all. Imagining dear old Edward as the new Krusty Krab boss. 

''Uncle Eddie would _hate_ that!''

''Oh yeah?'' He flicks a uncooked noodle at her, and she giggles. ''Maybe he'd change the name. Make it The Krusty Clarinet.''

''Ew, gross Bobby. That doesn't even make sense.''

''How about, The Kreepy Krab? Still with a K, of course.''

'' _Bob-by!''_

He raises his hands in surrender. Bobby himself would never change the name. The Krusty Krab had character, and changing the name would be like stripping away the walls. Doesn't keep him from wondering why Mr. Krabbe chose that particular word in the first place though.

''Alright,'' he says, going back to look at the ingredients in front of him. Bobby's glad she okayed this as their meal. He had prepared other things in the chance she wanted to be adventurous, each more complicated than the last, but mind had been rather preoccupied lately. Even since the hospital it had become more difficult keep his thoughts from wandering to Sandy and Patrick, and the whole _Love_ thing he was dealing with. Sometimes it took up too much space in his head, leaving him with nothing fearful affection and the possibility of what could happen.

Pearl snaps her fingers and brings him back to the task at hand. Right, he was chopping onions. ''Sorry Pearl,'' Bobby sniffs and the pungent scent brings a tear to his eyes. ''What's up?''

''Can I...'' She paused, took a deep breath that caught his attention and started again. ''Can I ask you an adult question? Daddy always talks about how nice you are, so I think it could help.''

His heart thumped. On one hand it felt nice that Pearl looked up to him as an _adult,_ but the other had him feeling faint at the admission Mr. Krabbe and Pearl actually talked about him outside of work. That could mean so many different things he couldn't hope to understand.

''Of course Pearl.'' Bobby said, forcing his voice to sound like the strong independent adult he most definitely was not. ''You can ask me anything.''

She launched into it, none the residual hesitant still present. ''I like a boy.'' Pearl blurted. ''And there's a dance at school. I wanna ask him.''

''Oh!'' That was so much easier than Bobby was envisioning her problem to be. Here he was believing she was going to be asking him about the birds and the bees. Something he himself didn't completely understand yet. ''Well, why don't you ask him?''

''Uh, cause he's popular? And I'm just the daughter of the greasy burger joint owner.''

''Oh Pearl...'' He puts away the meatballs in the oven, all precisely proportioned, scrubbed his hands clean. ''That's nothing. People like each other for who they are, not for what their parents do or own.''

Her upper lip curled incredulously. ''But he's student counsel president. And I'm just...just-''

''A beautiful young woman.'' Bobby interrupts, and the firmness behind what he's saying rocks Pearl still. ''He'd be lucky to go to the dance with a girl like you. What's his name?''

''Chris...''

''Well, Chris will probably love to take you to the dance. And if not?'' He lifts his chin high and plants his hands on his hips. ''I'll go with you!''

Pearl reaches across and shoves him in the shoulder, wrinkling her nose happily. ''Thats weird Bobby. Hey, have you ever asked anyone out?''

Bobby falters, and turns to the stove to turn his favorite burner on. Bottom left, high heat for the salted water to boil. He hasn't. Asked someone out that is. Had his fair share of crushes growing up, but Bobby's whole thing was sort of pining from afar while Patrick teased him.

Patrick teasing him for his current crushes now was Bobby's worst nightmare. He can't fathom a way it would go well.

''Well...'' Bobby voices, unable to leave her unanswered much as he wants to. ''I haven't actually.''

''Really?'' She sounds surprised. ''You're so nice. I figured you'd date a lot.''

He grimaces. Its not as simple as Pearl put it, no matter how much easier that would make it. He just can't put himself out there and risk everything, risk Patrick and Sandy and what they already have. Bobby shrugged.

''It's adult stuff Pearl. You don't need to worry about it.''

''But what if I could help? I am almost twelve you know. Daddy always says we're practically the same age.''

''We're not- Pearl that isn't what I mean.''

''Why not?!'' She kicks a heel against his lower cabinet, but it doesn't leave a scruff so Bobby doesn't mind. ''I wanna help! You could like, talk to me or something. Like, vent at me.''

And Bobby's whole thing is either keeping all his problems bottled up, or talking things out with Patrick and Sandy. With the latter stripped away Bobby's found himself forced into the first, a hard and murky road. Talking about his feelings with an almost twelve year old is less than ideal, but between his crushing defeat at The Jeweled Princess and the offer of having an ear to bend, Bobby is struggling _not_ to keep it quiet.

''Well...'' He says, voice level. ''You know Sandy and Patrick?''

''Duh. They're like always at work to pick you up and stuff.''

''Yeah, they are. They're also my best friends, and I think I-I think I Love them.''

Pearl narrowed her eyes. ''Love? Or Love love?''

''Love love. And I'm if I tell them they'll hate me, and never want to see me again, and I'll grow up to be an old man with nothing but his cat for company.''

''Wow...'' She seemed taken aback, palms pressed together as Pearl processed the bomb just dropped in front if her. ''That's alot.''

He grunted mirthful. ''Yeah, it is.''

''What are you gonna do about it?''

''Uh, never tell them?' Bobby shook his head. See, he knew Pearl was too young to understand. It would _never_ be as easy as _just tell them._ Its was too hard, too daunting, too aw-

Pearl kicked him, hard, in the shin. He yelped and backed away. She didn't even look guilty, just stared him down like he was being an idiot.

''You were starting to like, panic Bobby. Your eyes got all glassy and weird.''

That explained the kicking then. He winced. The start of a dissociative episode was something he didn't want Pearl to see. ''Sorry Pearl. That happens sometimes. You don't have to worry about it. I'm okay. How about be table this conversation?''

She tutted and crossed her arms. Okay, clearly she wasn't ready to let this can of worms go. '' _Bobby,_ you can't be all wise and junk telling me to go after the boy I like, then tell me you aren't gonna do the same.''

''Wu- well, uh. It's not like that Pearl.''

''Isn't it?''

_Is it?_

Bobby spent this whole time thinking there could be no possible way for these feelings to be requited. Sandy was so smart, so unbelievably amazing and how could Bobby ever dream to be good enough for her?

And Patrick. Patrick had _always_ been there. They were best friends, and if Bobby opend up and told the truth what else could Patrick do but turn him down gently, leave him to suffer as the awkward rift in their relationship grows, and grows, and _grows until he's all alone._

Except now Pearl's got him imagining a world where Sandy and Patrick Love him back. Where they hold hands, laughing at the awkward attempts to give a successful three way kiss that doesn't mash their noses together. Where everything is perfect, and Bobby not only has what he wants, but Patrick and Sandy have what they want as well. Where _he's_ what they want.

_That_ is maybe the scariest thing he's imagined all day.

Pearl poked his side and brought him back to reality. She was looking concerned now, and Bobby didn't want to make her worry.

''I'm not ready to talk about this with them yet Pearl.'' She frowned, and Bobby raised a hand. '' _But,_ I think you might be right. I can't keep hiding this. I'll talk to them. Not yet, maybe not even soon. But I will talk to them.''

''Good.'' And then Pearl was jumping off his counter, throwing her arms around Bobby's waist. It took him by surprise, breath knocked from him. Bobby kept still for a beat then leaned to hug her back.

''You give nice hugs.'' Pearl said. ''I'm totally gonna take you to the dance if Chris says no.''

''Oh, well I hope he says yes, but if not I'm your man.'' Bobby gave one more tight squeeze before they both let go. He brushed his hair back and winked. Might as well make the most of his theatrical background. ''Now, ready for lunch little lady?''

Pearl smiled and it was radiant. ''Sure thing, weirdo.''

''Weirdo and proud of it.''

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof. I like to put chapters out 3-5 days within each other, but oh boy have I been busy. The next one shouldn't take as long. But hey! This is the longest one I've written so far! And remember, I take prompts!
> 
> Side note, just to explain, Patrick works as a night security guard at a museum. It's based on one of the later Spongebob episodes. Honestly, I'm not a fan of most after season 3, but a chunk of 4, 9, and 10 have been okay.
> 
> What's y'alls favorite Spongebob episode? Mine is Pizza Delivery.


	8. Old Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A blast from the past comes back to visit Bobby and Patrick.

Bobby woke up with Patrick pillowed under him, and Sandy sprawled by his side. She was holding tight to Patrick's hand. Both were still dead asleep, not likely to wake anytime soon.

It took a moment to maneuver his head up without disturbing them, but eventually Bobby caught sight of his alarm clock. Nearly eight in the morning, not bad. He hadn't bothered to set an alarm last night, not wanting to trouble his friends with it, but it seemed his body had decided to wake up on its own. 

Now the real question, since he didn't really want to go back to sleep, was if he should try to remove himself from this scene, or succumb to their embrace for the next hour or so. He was comfortable, both physically and mentally. But boy was it warm. Not even affectionately, though they _were_ adorable, but a sort of sweaty heat bubble he was trapped in. Patrick's natural want to be personal space heater didn't help in the slightest. 

After a few moments of pre-constructing the best way to get out without waking his friends, Bobby wiggles his way free. He tumbles to the wood floor in a sprawl of bony limbs. It's at once a thousands times cooler, in ways that are both good and bad. Gary, stretched across Patrick's feet, is the only one who stirs. Bobby's pet lifts his little fuzzy head and yawns, showing off the teeth that would make him a dangerous predator if it weren't for the hindrance of weighting about nine pounds. He coos quietly and Gary, all too used to his owners unfortunate habit of rising with the sun, promptly goes back to sleep. 

Bobby doesn't mind. He walks into his tidy living room with a bounce in his step. As much as he's a social animal, Bobby can admit that sometimes being alone is just as nice. It's been about a month since Sandy and Patrick gave him a clear bill of health to live on his own once more, and he's just as grateful for it as he is missing it terribly. His life has turned into a paradox of wanting them near, and being filled with the alien need to push them away.

In fact, yesterday had been their first trio sleepover since. They had stayed up rather late, taking advantage of Bobby's ability to move around again without his side catching in pain, and gotten rambunctious. Pillow fights, _ka-ra-tay,_ twister, you name it.

Bobby lost every game they had come up with, including, frustratingly, The Jeweled Princess. Patrick (who won all the board games) and Sandy (who rinsed them both in everything else), had been smug and gracious in their victories. All Bobby could do was smile it away. He couldn't tell them the reason he lost so quickly at Twister was because Sandy had come so close to his face he could count her eyelashes individually. Or that Patrick's lips had actually brushed his cheek during the first pillow fight, and Bobby was pretty sure he almost blacked out.

So, much as he loved having them around, a few moments of reprieve were just as welcomed. Gave him a bit to catch his breath and think.

Last week he made a promise to Pearl he'd pull his head out of the clouds and do something about his feelings for Patrick and Sandy. Which was, great. Because if there was anything Bobby did as well as fry cooking, it was planning things out. All his life daunting tasks became a little less so if Bobby could just look and see at some sort of plan, or list. Pros and cons, a contingency to calm his nerves.

Except, it had been a _week_ and Bobby was still clueless. Romantic movies made it seem so easy, but even then Bobby had yet to find a movie where the main character confessed his love to not only the best friend, but to the girl who was also, kind of, sort of, his best friend. Pearl did offer her own form of help, which was sweet in of itself, except her romantic dealings mostly revolved around school yard crushes.

One thing Bobby was absolutely certain about, was that this was no crush. Bobby wanted, full stop, to be with them. Forever, if possible. He wants to grow old with them, live with them, and face whatever the world had to through at them together.

It would be a rough road, he knows that much as well. He and Patrick have been going to Pride together for over a decade now, and they already had plans for the next one with Sandy, so polygamous relationships are nothing he hasn't seen before, but he _knows_ how some people would see it. How every bigot would love to poke their way into the three of theirs business if they so much as held hands in public. Not that he really believes anyone in Bikini Bottom would be so mean, but they would have to leave the town sometimes. He doesn't want sneers thrown at them for something as pure as love.

Bobby frowns. All of that is getting ahead of himself. He can't think so far as that without even having a confession plan yet. One large, scary step at a time.

The clock on the wall tells Bobby he's been stewing on the couch for nearly forty five minutes now. No one has stumbled from his room yet, but he expects Sandy to come clambering for coffee in the next hour half, with the scent dragging Patrick out not long after. Bobby himself doesn't really drink the stuff, only when its loaded with enough sugar and cream to practically be hot milk at that point, so unless he needs an energy rush he avoids it. If he gets up to shower now he'd have enough time to start a fresh pot for them.

He stands, arches his back until a satisfying _pop_ comes, and goes quietly about his morning routine. Sandy and Patrick are still out deeply enough that the shower spray goes unnoticed, so he takes a risk and changes there in his room.

Where all they had to do was open their eyes to see all of Bobby and them some.

Which, he wasn't actually _shy_ about, it was just, _wow._ Both of his crushes have actually seen him get changed before. And in Patrick case of childhood friends, even seen him naked.

He shoves on something soft and colorful, just nice enough to make him not look like a middle-schooler, and escapes into the kitchen. Starting the coffee is nice. Gives his hands something to do while his mind wanders to the objects of his affection a room over. Ironically he's so preoccupied by them that he doesn't notice Sandy shuffling into the kitchen till she checks him gently with her hip. Ever the morning person she just grunts, eyes on the coffee brewing. Bobby tries not to melt.

When a steaming cup is in her hands, half gone in an instant, her eyes finally clear enough to meet his. She squints. It's fond, but Bobby isn't sure if its for him personally, or just from the fact he made her coffee.

''Mornin'.'' She drawls. Her accent is always deeper right when she wakes up.

''Morning.'' Bobby repeats, cheerful as default, and goes to make Patrick a cup. Milk and sugar, but not too much. Not like the pitch black coffee Sandy could guzzle down.

The silence is nice, and they don't feel the need to say anything more until Patrick comes sauntering in. He isn't wearing a shirt, and despite having seen it a thousand times, Bobby gulps. They don't notice, at least, not yet awake enough, and Bobby hands Patrick his mug.

''Uhn.'' Says Patrick, eloquent. Sandy, who apparently also speaks this language of limbo awareness grunts back at him. They raise their drinks to each other and share a look Bobby can't understand. Whatever is going unsaid between them isn't any of his business anyway. He's definitely not dying of curiosity. He hopes it - ~~is-~~ isn't about him.

''Hungry?'' Bobby asks to cut the silence. Sandy nods, and Patrick doesn't bother answering. They know each other well enough that to get that Patrick's response would always be _yes absolutely, always._

They make quite a team actually. Chef, (not chef, not yet, just a fry cook) and man with bottomless pit for a stomach. Sandy fits in too as their rationality.

He doesn't feel like making too much of a fuss with breakfast, so Bobby just sets out some bacon to fry, and cracks a few eggs. Sandy preferred scrambled, and Patrick liked making a sunny side up sandwich with two pieces of toast. Bobby himself isnt all that hungry, so he just nibbled on a bit of bread and jam as everything cooked.

By the time everything was plated out Sandy was on her third cup of coffee, and nearly completely awake because of it. Patrick was still nursing his first, but the plate of hot food had him waking more than the drink could supply.

''Gosh Bobby,'' Sandy dunked a bit of her toast into her coffee and he raised an eyebrow at that absurd sight. That was that, he wasn't in love with her anymore. ''You're the best. I could kiss kiss ya' right now.''

Okay, he was _definitely_ still in love with her, werid coffee habit aside. It was a good thing Bobby didn't try to eat anything more, else Sandy's bold statement would have him choking. He went floundering instead, gesturing awkwardly with a flurry of his hands in lieu of a response. Out of the corner of his eye Bobby looked at her to see if she's going to make good on her offer, but she's just tucking into her meal now.

Well, that's fine. He can't expect the two of them to suddenly sweep him off of his feet. No, that would be too easy for him. And Bobby can't have that.

The jingle of a ringtone sounds off and Patrick looks up mid bite. He knows that sound, his phone going off from where he tossed it last night. No one really calls him other than Bobby and Sandy, who are currently in the room sans their phones, and it certainly wouldn't be his parents, so he can't place it right away. His sister Sam is just as unlikely. Edward, maybe, but their older neighbor is just next door, and he's shown no reluctance to just come over to Bobby's to complain in person before, so its probably not him.

''Who's that?'' Bobby questioned, looking curious while Sandy looked at him over her mug of coffee. Patrick shrugs, reaches for the flip phone he hasn't bothered to replace since middle school and answers.

''Ello?''

The voice on the other line answers, and Patrick sits up straighter, pushing his plate of food away. All the tiredness is gone from his face in an instant, replaced by a grin that has Bobby weak in the knees.

''No way!'' He continues. ''That would be awesome! In an hour, okay? I've gotta tell Bobby.''

Said Bobby is frowning now. He can't be upset at Patrick looking so elated, but the fact hes got no idea what's causing it has him puzzled. They usually tell each other everything ( _and Bobby chides himself as a hypocrite at that)_ but Patrick does seem genuinely surprised at whoever is calling him. They talk for a minute more, and Patrick signs off with a promise to text his address to them. 

He flips the phone shut and finally looks to Bobby and Sandy again. He's still shirtless, not like Bobby could miss it, and the lack of his usual hair gel has strands falling into his eyes. Bobby can't remember the last time Patrick looked so pleasant and happy.

''Bobby!'' He says, slapping a hand towards his befuddled friends like their attention needed to be grabbed. As if they could tear their eyes from him right now. ''Do you remember Mindy?''

Bobby reels back, an uncomfortable sort of pit settling in his stomach. ''Wh- yeah, of course I remember Mindy.''

''Who's Mindy?''

''Oh Sandy.'' Patrick outstretched his arms towards her and settled both palms on her shoulders. ''Mindy was the _coolest_ girl in our home town. She babysat Bobby and I for a year or two.''

''Pat had a crush on her.'' Bobby adds, casual, like his insides aren't churning.

''Yeah.'' Pat breathed. ''She was great. I actually asked her out to our middle school dance.''

''Really?'' Sandy said. ''What she say?''

''She actually said yes! The only reason we couldn't go together was because she was a a high schooler. Our principal thought it was "uncouth".'' He huffed, like the rebuff still bothered him, and hooked his arm around Bobby's waist. ''So Bobby and I went together.''

Bobby very carefully retracted himself from Patrick's hold and retreated back into the kitchen. He remembered that night extremely well. Back then his feelings for Patrick had been nothing but deep friendly affection, but he couldn't help but think the one dance they actually shared before going home early that night took a great part in the way he was feeling now.

Sandy stood and took her plate to the sink, which put her by Bobby's side. The kitchen island that branched between the two of them and Patrick was suddenly a great wall. 

''Do you still?'' She asked.

Patrick cocked his head to the side, and his deflated pompadour swished. ''Do I still what?''

''Have a crush on her, Patrick.''

Bobby knew what he wanted the answer to be. A quick and easy _no,_ maybe followed by a laugh at the very thought. That the puppy crush Patrick had on their old babysitter was nothing more than a thing of the past.

Instead Patrick glanced thoughtfully up at the ceiling, humming like he needed a moment longer to decide. Great Neptune, they hadn't seen Mindy for nearly three years by now, surely Patrick still didn't feel the same way for her.

''Probably not.'' He said in the end. ''But I am excited to see her again. I'm gonna text her the apartment building address and she'll be over in an hour. Bobby you mind if she comes over here? You know what my place looks like, and I don't want her to see it.''

And Bobby nods, only because he can't think of a good reason to turn him down. He likes Mindy as well, would be happy to see her on any other occasion. This jealousy he feels isn't on her in any way, but Bobby is sure if Patrick so much as looks her with lovesick eyes his heart will burst then and there.

''Thanks buddy.'' Patrick says. ''I'm gonna go hop in the shower at my place and change. Be back in fifteen.''

He waved at them as he left, taking the warm energy of the room with him. Sandy, sensing something was off but not quite sure what swiped a hand through Bobby's hair.

''Showerin' sounds like a good idea. Mind if I hop in yours?''

He managed a smile, playfully pushing her hand aside. ''Mi casa es su casa.''

''Thanks partner,'' - _he wished-_ ''Back in a bit. Can't wait to meet this girl Patrick is all excited about.''

''Sure.'' Bobby said, waving her off as he was suddenly all alone.

\---

The hour passed too quickly for Bobby. Sandy and Patrick returned at nearly the same time, both fresh and dressed just a bit more nicer than their usual attire. During his hospital stint Sandy had brought over a good handful of her own clothes, which now took residence in his bottom drawer. She had clearly picked something special for meeting Mindy. Why, he couldn't put his finger on.

Bobby felt very underdressed at the moment, but he couldn't really change without offering an explanation.

Patrick settled into Bobby's worn old reclining chair that Mr. Krabbe had help him bargin for a few months ago. Sandy stayed standing, picking at her sleeve like she was the one who had something to be nervous about.

At this point Bobby was beinging to think he should prepare hors d'oeuvre or something along those lines, but a light knock sounded from his door before he could decide. Patrick shot off towards it, slicking back his freashly primped pompadour, and opened it with a flourish.

Mindy looked alot like she did those years ago. Tall athletic build, short dyed hair, and kind eyes. A dream come true for any prepubescent kid she looked after.

''Patrick!'' Mindy stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his neck with a smile. ''Its so great to see you again! You've gotten taller!''

''D'aw, Mindy.'' He met her embrace easy, nearly lifting her from the ground as he swung her into the appartment.

They pulled apart after what Bobby would call an inappropriate amount of time. Mindy looked over at him, and as off as Bobby felt during all of this, he had to admit it was nice seeing her again. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't deny an old friend.

''Mindy. I missed you.'' He said, soft, and her expression changed the slightest. She had always been good at reading him. Her smile was a touch gentle as she approached him. Mindy opened her arms for a hug and Bobby found it much easier than he would of thought to join it. 

''Bobby! You _haven't_ gotten taller.'' She teased, and Bobby chuckled like he was ten again. ''But you have grown up. Twenty one now, right?''

''Sure am. Sandy and Patrick even took me out drinking for celebration.''

''Sandy?'' Mindy pulled away, now noticing the third party member awkwardly standing in the corner. She smiled sheepishly and tapped a hand to her cheek. ''I'm so sorry. That's you right? I didn't mean to ignore you, I was just so happy to see my boys again.''

''Oh, no problem.'' Sandy offered a hand to shake, and when they touched Bobby half expected the world to explode from the sheer force of the two coolest girls ever interacting. '' _Our_ boys can be a handful, huh?''

Well, of all the problems Bobby felt this would bring, having Mindy and Sandy team up against them wasn't bad. He puffed out his chest and waved Patrick closer. Reading his best buddies mind Pat copied Bobby's new found heroic pose.

''Handfull?!'' Patrick declared, mockingly offended. ''Bobby and I are saints, thank you very much.''

''Yeah!'' Bobby added. ''In fact, Mindy why don't you take a seat? If you're gonna be here a while you can join our board game day. Boys VS girls. Just get ready to be whooped.''

''Bobby you've lost every game so far.''

''Sandy!'' Like it was too much for him Bobby leaned into Patrick's side, who just grabbed at his friend and played the role of a fainting couch. 'How dare you say such a thing! In front of my quest?''

''Bobby!'' Her eyes sparkled playfully, and Bobby loved it. ''Technically speakin', I'm a guest too.''

''You have a drawer here Sandy. You go above and beyond guest at this point.''

Surprisingly Sandy had no come back for that. A breath of air escaped her and she glance away, her smile turning lopsided, and Bobby was probably wrong about this, but it almost looked giddy.

Mindy laughed as bright as always. ''You three are too cute. I'd love to play a game Bobby. What do you have in mind?''

He stayed, selfish for the touch, against Patrick's side. For his part, Pat didn't seem to mind one bit. He even grinned along with Bobby as he leaned forward, voice a whisper full of glee.

''Ever heard of The Jewled Princess?''

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's play, how many times can I mention a board game I made up for this fic? Too many times, is the answer 😔
> 
> I've had some bad neck pain, so despite my earlier decree of this chapter coming sooner I lied one again, sorry guys!! But we arent done with Mindy yet! The first Spongebob movie is such a good and nostalgic thing, I was so happy to be able to incorporate Mindy in it.
> 
> Does Patrick still have a crush on her? Qui Sait? You will, soon.


	9. Advice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick is fine.

Patrick doesn't consider himself a genius, but he can at least tell when things go over his head. Something has been off about Bobby for a while. At first he just assumed it was an residual effect from his hospital stint, enough of a blow against Bobby to hinder his usual happy-go-lucky mojo.

Now Patrick isn't sure. Which, is nothing new, really, but Bobby had always been an absolute in his life. Patrick could practically live under a rock and still have Bobby stick around. They know each other better than anything in the world.

Which makes this all so much more frightening. It's like Bobby is out of his reach now, tumbling over some sort of invisible barrier.

He had wanted to get to the bottom of it today, Sandy's presence a helpful factor. Bobby wasn't really the type of guy to talk about himself if he could help it, didn't even put much stock in celebrating his own birthday, but usually if they double teamed him their bright little friend would relent.

Now that Mindy is here, things are different. Not in a bad way, per se, but just harder to work around. He doesn't want to at a time like this, but Patrick is just so distracted with her around. It had been the truth when he earlier said he didn't think he had feelings for her anymore, but the return of a first crush would always be an attention grabber.

Bobby didn't seem to mind too much, at least. In fact Patrick would say he looked even more relaxed once Mindy showed up.

So, maybe Mindy isthe answer?

Compared to Patrick, Bobby had a crush for every day of the week as they grew up. He would always tell Patrick, gushing about Elizabeth from math class, or Rodger F. that he met at sleep away camp. Mindy's name never left Bobby's lips in that way, but Patrick knows Bobby is the type of guy to shut his own feelings down for someone else's sake.

Is that why Bobby stopped telling Patrick of his infatuations? He doesn't think he can stomach the idea of causing Bobby any sort of discomfort like that. And Patrick can stomach a lot.

''Ah geez.'' Taking Patrick away from his painful pondering is the man himself. Bobby is focused down at his watch with concern. He knows that look. Its work related. ''I need go get to work! Today is my first day back, I don't wanna be late.''

Yup, there it is.

Mindy, who was currently in the lead in their second hand of monopoly, touched a hand to her apologetic face. ''Gosh Bobby, I didn't mean to distract you. Why don't I give you a ride?''

''I've got it.'' Sandy said, standing up before Bobby could get a response in. Despite talking to Mindy her eyes were still on the board, and Patrick was sure it wasn't because she was the one losing this time.

Forgetful as he was, he does know how Sandy sometimes struggled with feeling left out of their trio. He wants to smack himself up the head for not noticing it until now. Mindy took part as a good portion of his and Bobby's lives, longer than Sandy has yet to. (He has no doubts Sandy will be in their lives for years to come, can't bring himself to think otherwise) After the talk they had last month on this very couch, shes gotta be feeling some sort of bad.

''Oh?'' Mindy pushes up those same round glasses she had years ago, sounding more confused than anything. ''If you're sure. I don't wanna impose.''

''You aren't. I'll stay here with you Mindy. We can go down to The Krusty Krab later for lunch.'' Patrick says, desperate to keep a balance of everyone happy. It's hard enough juggling Sandy and Bobby when they're down, and while he'd gladly do so whenever they need, adding Mindy to the equation is just a bit too much.

The chill in the room is uncomfortable, and they all can sense it. Bobby goes about quickly to gather his work uniform, and since that only consists of the hat Mr. Krabbe made him buy, he's out the door within a minute, Sandy at his heels. They both wave goodbye, but with no hug, or the odd temple kiss from Bobby. Patrick slumps in his chair. In Bobby's chair, actually.

Mindy is fiddling with the strap of her purse. ''Patrick?'' She says, cutting through the silence. ''Is everything okay? I can't help but get the feeling I came at a bad time.''

He doesn't want her thinking this is her fault, especially when Patrick isn't sure if there is someone to blame for all of this, so he shakes his head. ''Nah, you haven't done anything. Sandy is really nice when you get to know her. And Bobby...'' Patrick stops, winces, then rubs at his face. ''I think Bobby's still riled up from his visit to the hospital last month. He probably just needs more time to adjust.''

''Oh my, Bobby was in the hospital?''

''Uh, yeah...'' That's right, Mindy wouldn't of known. Bobby had practically bent Pat backward begging to keep it a secret from his parents, so there wasn't much of a chance word would of gotten out to Mindy as well. ''His appendix burst. He's okay now, but it was really scary. It was in the middle of the night, and I only woke up in time to see the paramedics take him away.''

He doesn't like reliving that night. Between the two of them, Pat had mostly taken on the role of protector. Ranging from scaring away nightmares Bobby would suffer from after watching a horror movie they weren't allowed to see, or physically putting his own body between his best friend and bullies like Jack, Patrick would do it all. 

No amount of hugs would chase away the memories of that night.

''Patrick?'' Mindy's looking at him like hes ten years old again, which normally would stir annoyance in his gut, but right now Patrick thought he could use some adult advice. ''It looks to me you're just about as okay as Bobby is.''

Confusion, one of his least favorite, but most common emotions takes hold of him. Mindy doesn't know what she's talking about. Patrick is _fine._ There was no way he was going to compare a few uncomfortable memories to everything Bobby was going through. Whatever it was. Patrick still didn't know, and that was the real problem.

He decides to ignore Mindy's sly attempt to get him to talk about his own feelings and pushes onward. ''Bobby isn't fine.'' Patrick insists again. ''Something is wrong with him, and I don't know what it is. And he won't talk to me about it. He _always_ tells me when he's feeling down. Maybe I did something wrong.''

''Patrick Starr!'' Mindy actually snaps at him, and for a moment he's brought back to all the trouble he and Bobby would get into as kids. Which wasn't much, but he remembered that tone. ''I won't have you talking about yourself like that. You're Bobby's best friend. If he needs to talk to you about something, he'll do it when he's ready. You've got no reason to think you've done something wrong.''

The authority in her voice has Patrick struggling to argue, even though he would very much like to do so. Instead he folds himself back into the armchair with a grunt. Everything was so much easier when they were kids. He'd trade almost anything to go back to the good old days setting up club BFF in Bobby's parents house.

Anything but Sandy. Adulthood blew shells sometimes, but it did bring them her. And that's worth all the turmoil they've faced so far.

Patrick squirms as Mindy continues to look at him. He isn't the one to talk at length about his problems (ironically, the same problem he faced with Bobby), more of a hoarder in that sense, but there's something in the relationship between old babysitter and child that makes things smoother. It's just, he's having a hard time bringing himself to this next train of thought.

''Mindy?'' He asks, looking anywhere but her eyes. ''Do you remember how I had a crush on you as a kid?''

She makes a noise, but not of surprise. So, he wasn't that great at keeping his smitten nature for her a secret when he was a kid. Figures.

''I do. It was sweet.''

''Thanks.'' Patrick chooses to take that as a compliment. ''I-I don't, anymore. Not that you aren't great, I just-I-I think I-''

Mindy cuts him off with a verbal gut punch. ''Have feelings for Bobby?'' She continues, and Patrick's insides sink.

''No!'' He exclaims, feeling just as shocked at his volume as Mindy looks. ''That's not what I was going to say at all!''

''Oh, Sandy then?''

Patrick wants to faint. This feels like a moment from those telenovelas he and Bobby watch. If he didn't know how sincere and kind Mindy was first hand, Patrick would think she was purposely screwing with him right now. Thinking of Bobby and Sandy that way is, is, is-

He can't even articulate it. Bobby is his best friend in the whole wide world, his other half. _Platonic_ other half. And Sandy is smart, kind, captivating, and so utterly out of his league. They both are. Patrick had come to the conclusion young that he would end up being whatever a male spinster was, living out the rest of his days as Uncle Pat to whatever kids Bobby and his future spouse had. Sandy too, if she even wanted a life like that. You never knew with free ramblin' scientists.

And that was fine. Perfect even. Including Mindy, Patrick can count on one finger the number of romantic encounters he's had. Even calling it that with Mindy was a stretch. It was fine- _he_ was fine with that.

Fine, fine, fine, fine. Maybe if he repeated it enough, it'd be true.

''That wasn't what I was going to say.'' Patrick repeats with a croak. ''I was thinking Bobby might have a crush on you. Or-,'' He straightens in a jerked motion. ''Or _Sandy!_ That's gotta be it!''

''Woah, woah, okay Patrick. Slow down.'' Mindy looks ready to pounce and tie him down in an attempt at getting him to listen, so he stops wiggling in his chair. Besides, if he's right about this, and his track record would say he isn't, Patrick does actually want to speak about it.

''It makes sense Mindy! Bobby's been acting weird whenever he's around us, and he's probably not talking to me because he's afraid I'll feel like a third wheel.''

Which he _won't._ Patrick is enough of an adult that he can stand losing Bobby to someone if its Sandy. Or the reverse, letting Sandy go to be with Bobby. They're the most important things in his life, and there isn't a hoop he wouldn't jump through for them.

''Neptune, I'm an idiot.'' Mindy shoots him a stern look. ''I am! Bobby's too nice of a guy to tell me to get lost. He probably wants me to figure it out myself, but he forgot how dense I am.''

''That is enough!'' That's the second time Mindy has snapped at him today, which is double the times she did when he was a kid. ''Patrick you have to stop beating yourself up. Even if that's true, do you really think Bobby would kick you out of his life that that?''

Of course Patrick didn't. He just thought Bobby would want him around less, as to not hindrance things with Sandy.

''No.'' He admits. ''But what do you mean, ''even if that's true''? You don't think Bobby has feelings for Sandy?''

Things are starting to feel like one of Pearl's teenage magazine's she left scattered around The Krusty Krabbe. How schoolyard was this conversation? Patrick half expected cooties to be brought up next.

Mindy scoots closer to him and lays her hands over his. Her skin is dark, but not like Sandy's. It takes a moment of clear deliberation before she speaks, and even when she does its slow and careful. ''I don't know Bobby as well as you do. I doubt anyone does. If you think it's true, it just might be. But do you want it to be?''

His instinct is to insist that it doesn't matter what he wants. Not when it comes to Bobby and Sandy. Instead, he pauses. Collects what he knows. He does want them to be happy. He does think they would work well together. He does think Bobby has feelings for Sandy, and is rather sure those would be requited.

But, Patrick doesn't want that to be the end.

Oh. Oh no.

''That's a loaded question.'' He winces, sheepish only because he isn't sure what else to feel right now. ''But I think your earlier guesses might be right Mindy.''

She blinks owlishly. ''My earlier guesses?''

''About Bobby, and Sandy..... And me.''

''Oh!'' She gets it quickly, and Patrick is grateful. Discovering that his feelings for Bobby and Sandy are much more than friendly is rendering him dumbstruck. It's a big deal, he grasps at that, but if Patrick forces any more brain power on that he will disintegrate here in Bobby's apartment.

''Mindy,'' he wines. ''What do I do? I can't do this to them, not now.''

''Hey, looks at me.'' Patrick does. ''You don't have to do anything right now. Just take some time to think about it. About yourself. Your a great friend to Bobby and Sandy, but you deserve happiness too.''

Thinking is that last thing Patrick wants to do right now. He nods, deciding to leave that less than favorable brain pow-wow for later. Right now he'd like nothing more to forget and claws his way back into the old normal.

''Thanks Mindy.'' He pats her hand. ''I don't think I could of gotten this far without you.''

''Sure you could.'' She says, and Patrick can at least congratulate himself for falling for kind people. ''Say, you think you'd be up to an early lunch? That way next time you do see Bobby I'll be right there with you.''

Food, and a metaphorical hand to hold as he takes this journey? Patrick's stomach rumbles, and that itself is a yes. Mindy laughs, and shes never more than a foot away from him the rest of the say.

So, maybe Patrick isn't fine. But he's getting there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of my shorter chapters, and was the longest to put out. The flu ended up kicking my ass, but we got here eventually. This one is also a bit messier than I'd like it to be, so sorry folks. A-game is coming back soon.
> 
> But hey! Two outta three coming to realize their feelings! Does that mean we're near the confession?
> 
> Nope. Slowburn babey.


End file.
